


Veteran Zero

by KanuKoris



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanuKoris/pseuds/KanuKoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when you've saved the galaxy and been big goddamn heroes? Back to business as usual, of course. The Reapers are gone but that doesn't mean there isn't some scum left in the galaxy or some credits to be earned. Zaeed picks up as a bounty hunter again, Jack tagging along for the ride, and between the veteran and the wild card there's lots of trouble to be had.</p><p>A slow-building Zaeed/Jack friendship. With good, old-fashioned rough mercenary flirting, fighting, one-up's-manship and knocking boots. But mostly arguments. Lots of arguments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Thump._

 

_Thump._

 

_Thump._

 

“For fuck's sake, girl, give it a rest.” Zaeed rubbed a fingertip along the scar that carved down the right side of his face. It twinged every now and again, all the deep ones did, and his nerves were on edge. He had run a thousand missions before and he knew it was all a game of hurry up and wait. Everyone had their own ways of blowing off the tension. But she had been bouncing a spent thermal clip off the door of the shuttle for fifteen minutes now and it was seriously starting to grate on his nerves.

 

She was flippant as always, shrugging and glaring off in the distance. “Yeah. Whatever.”

 

He would have given her a piece of his mind about saving her biotics for when the fighting really started, but the last time that issue had come up she'd made a point to blast an energy field so destructive it had wiped out a whole platoon of worcha before he could even line up a shot. At least it had endeared her to the rest of the crew, who had been muttering darkly before about bringing the psychotic biotic onto the team.

 

He wasn't fussy and he didn't have a stick up his arse like the Alliance types, but it still made him uneasy now and again to think he had a mental train of destruction watching, or not watching, his six in a tight spot. Still, they had run four successful bounties already and the credits had been pouring in like goddamn confetti. And considering how things had fallen out he didn't exactly get his retirement payout from the Cerberus bastards.

 

He also didn't think anyone else would quite understand the hollow feeling being an ex-saviour of the galaxy could leave you in. Not that he had any sentimental connections to the old Normandy crew (they were all right though, he had even ran into Vakarian on the Citadel once and they'd wrecked the bar together), but when he found Jack prowling through the alleys of Omega looking for fights he'd understood her frustration. Shepard had died destroying the Reapers and their connection to the rest of the Normandy crew was gone; they and a few others were the outsiders. The rest of the galaxy thought it would be all celebrations afterwards, but he was an old merc and he knew better. It was back to business as usual, and destroying the goddamn Reapers wouldn't stop people, from whatever species, from taking advantage of or being horrible to each other.

 

And that meant there was still a steady line of work available for him. Could have been worse.

 

“You done your smoke or are we just going to let the batarians fuck around in there?”

 

“Keep your panties on.” He tossed away the butt of his cigarette and couldn't resist a short laugh at the annoyed look on her face. She'd grown out her hair into and kept it swept back, though keeping part of her scalp shaved to show off her ink. A drunk turian had once said it looked like the arse end of a horse and he had to shove her into a skycar so they could skip town before the authorities arrived to clean up her mess. Touchy, but she was still good for a laugh sometimes.

 

“You done with that hack, yet?” Zaeed looked to the Salarian specialist they'd hired out for the job, feverishly working on a shunt program to tap them directly into the batarians' communications feed. Twitchy little fuck. He held up a finger as a gesture for them to wait, and after a few more seconds of muttering under his breath, nodded.

 

“All right, get off your arses,” Zaeed barked as he slung his rifle off his shoulder, “time to storm the castle.”

 

***

 

“You gutless son of a bitch.”

 

Vido laughed. Zaeed could throw whatever petty insults he wanted at him and it wouldn't make a lick of difference, but on his knees with six men holding him down he didn't have anything left in his arsenal. And he never went down without a fight.

 

“Coward!” He bellowed, still struggling against the many arms holding him in place. He burned with the humiliation that he was on his goddamned knees like a hostage, that they had his arms in a deadlock he had _fucking_ taught them, and that honestly, he was well and truly fucked.

 

“Maybe, Massani,” Vido began, still with a smirk hanging around his lips, “but it looks like your nerve didn't get you too far. I'm not a stupid man, I know what you're capable of and I don't underestimate. Shame, you didn't learn that lesson.”

 

Zaeed spat to the side. “Yeah, didn't think some credit pushing little shit like you would have the balls.”

 

“But I did.” Vido said simply and pointed the heavy pistol at Zaeed's face. He heard the familiar whine of the thermal clip engaging, and it took every scrap of determination he had not to start hyperventilating with fear.

 

“Adios, old friend. And you know, _thanks_...for all the hard work you put in.”

 

Whatever curse Zaeed had left to spit back into Vido's face was lost by the sharp bark of the pistol firing and the explosion of pain that wiped out every other conscious thought he had.

 

His body fell to the ground in a meaty 'thump' and the hands let go, his bleeding face colliding with the dirt and laying still. His hair was singed and the smell of burning flesh was grotesque. A heavy boot lightly nudged his shoulder before satisfied that he was dead. He didn't know, he was somewhere dark and cold and cut off from the rest of the world.

 

He didn't hear as Vido said, with genuine regret, “Shame.” before walking away.

 

***

 

He heard the Salarian yell, “Incinerate!” and the south end of the base exploded, knocking him off his feet. Well, he knew now the intel was good on the explosive material they had packed away in the storage hold. Fucking pirates, he almost felt sorry for how predictably stupid they were.

 

“Have you got him?” He shouted down into his comm and heard back, “We got the bastard, Zaeed. On our way to transport now.”

 

Good. The smuggler connected to these operations, little punk who'd been caught double-crossing Aria T'Loak of all sorts, was the only one with a bounty on his head. No one else in the base was worth a bent credit dead or alive, and it was time to get the hell out of there.

 

“I fucking love this!” He heard the indecent roar behind him, alive with the fire of bloodshed and a proper fight, and he swung his head hurriedly around to see Jack shimmering with a biotic pulse. She was laughing - _bloody menace -_ as batarians were lifted up like toys and flung about the scaffolding like unwanted pieces of litter.

 

“Back to the shuttle!” He yelled, though he wasn't sure if she heard him. She was sending a shockwave of energy down the escarpment that made the whole upper level scaffolding vibrate as it hit a couple more pirates with a metric tonne of force. Growling, he began to run over, he would shoot her in the arm to get her to move if he bloody had to...

 

There was another quake and he was thrown off his feet again, this time accompanied by the ominous sound of groaning metal. Jack's head whipped around to look at the structure of the base shearing with unpleasant screeches. Well, that caught her attention finally. The whole goddamn base was coming down and Zaeed could see his men pelting out of the oncoming blast radius. Picking himself up, he finally managed to make it to her side.

 

“Something isn't right!” She yelled over the chaos.

 

“No shit, genius.” He grabbed her arm and tugged, but she remained rooted to the spot. “ _Move your arse_.”

 

“No, _look_.” She was pointing to the toppling base structure and he was about to bite her head off for not moving, but then realized what she was staring at. There wasn't enough explosive material in the crates to have punched a hole through the metal structure like he was seeing. In fact...that would require some kind of mobile cannon...

 

“Heavy mech.” It thundered through the wall as he said it, its cannon beginning to flare up for a second shot. Despite the smoke, screams and errant bursts of fire colliding around him, he was considering the implications. Batarian pirates didn't have the funds to have goddamn heavy mechs...

 

“Oh fuck yes,” She said this almost as if she were aroused, as Asari Eclipse mercenaries began charging to the scaffolding, “and I was getting bored.”

 

 _The Eclipse were here?_ Someone had completely fucked up their intel or they had been double-crossed. He tugged insistently on her arm again, when a shot screeched overhead of him, nearly grazing his ear. Jack pushed him down.

 

“Snipers.” She smirked at him as she sent a wave of biotic energy down the escarpment. “Looks like we pissed someone off.”

 

“This job has gone tits up and you want to giggle like a goddamn school girl?” Zaeed sent a burst of suppressive fire into the approaching Eclipse strike team, but they had biotic barriers up that his rounds couldn't penetrate. Jack's eyes flashed with rage and he thought she was about to go completely fucking mental and hit him, but instead her hands were shoving him towards the evac point.

 

“Get running, old man.”

 

She didn't look like she was budging, already dodging a piece of metal railing an Eclipse mercenary had sent hurtling her way. He was ready to strangle her and a split second from making good on his thought to shoot her when she whipped her head back to see him still standing there.

 

“I got it! Go!” A blue wave of biotic energy hit him and he felt his body soar through the air in a rush before landing gracelessly with a groan. It wasn't a soft landing and he hadn't expected that bitch to have the balls to use a biotic lift on him. He'd feel the bruise later.

 

Jack was laughing. Crazy bitch was laughing as she threw her arms out, a blue orb around her as she lifted unnaturally into the air. Her hair whipped wild around her face as she curled into herself, legs tucking in under her chest as sparks of energy began to collect in her open palms. The Eclipse mercenaries seemed to understand hell was about to be unleashed on them as the heavy mech began to fire its cannons directly at her and they renewed their assault.

 

 _Goddamn it_. Zaeed picked himself off the ground and ran like hell to the shuttle point.

 

Biotic energy exploded out of Jack in one destructive flare, sweeping through the mercenaries and knocking them flat on their asses, if not blowing them right off the scaffolding to the two-storey drop below. Jack felt fucking incredible and more alive than she had in months, the energy tingling on her skin as it dissipated. High on endorphins she knocked a few more mercenaries away with a swipe of her hand in the air and then began running, tearing through the air as an elated yell ripped free from her throat.

 

***

 

A hand helped pull Zaeed into the rumbling shuttle and he bit back another groan of pain. He'd broken a couple ribs in the fall and he spat out blood onto the floor of the shuttle. He looked around and saw he was in the second shuttle, their bounty had been safely transported to the ship on the first. Thank fuck for small miracles.

 

“Is she coming?” Tyrus, a turian he'd worked with several times before, had poked his head out of the shuttle to check. When he caught Zaeed's eyes and saw the rage shimmering there, he quickly dropped the subject. Zaeed cast his gaze outside too, seeing the explosions and gunfire in the distance. He'd give her half a minute...

 

And then there was a blue shimmering blur streaking towards them and that demented laughter. With a grimace Zaeed banged his fist on the side of the shuttle three times and the shuttle lifted off the ground. Jack soared in, arms wheeling and Tyrus caught her hand, pulling her inside as the shuttle door slid shut.

 

“Did you _see_ that?” She let out an exhilarated whoop, still running high of a rush of endorphins and adrenaline, tucking fly-away strands of hair behind her ear that had escaped. “That flare hit one asari bitch so hard I saw some of her head tentacles fly off.”

 

“You done being goddamn pleased with yourself yet?”

 

Jack looked affronted, there was no amusement in his tone, and she frowned. “Oh, you're welcome, Massani, you can buy me a drink later for saving your ass.”

 

There was a second of a tense, ugly silence and the crew watched with baited breath, knowing that weeks of antagonism was about to snap. Zaeed rushed Jack and slammed her against the side of the shuttle, a forearm pressed against her neck and his free hand gripping his pistol. Jack looked completely nonplussed and was for once stunned into silence.

 

Zaeed was beside himself. “You ever pull a goddamn stunt like that again and I will vent your arse out the air lock!”

 

Jack couldn't be kept stunned into cooperation for too long though, and her hands curled around his arm as she struggled. “I'd like to see you try, old man. Don't threaten me.”

 

He pushed his forearm harder against her throat and relished the slight tinge of panic in her eyes. She was young and overconfident, and this was the first time she had ever been confronted by the fact that this old merc might be stronger than her.

 

“I'm not threatening you,” His voice was a low growl, “I'm making you a promise. We would have been well away from those Eclipse mercs if you hadn't decided to show off like a prat.”

 

“I got us out of there, didn't I?” She was struggling viciously now, like a wild animal hissing and cornered.

 

He didn't relent and roared in her face. “ _You could have gotten yourself goddamn killed_.”

 

“What do you care!” She shouted back and he was blown away from her again. A biotic field enveloped her and there was a dangerous glint in her eye, a hand upraised. Zaeed swiftly brought his pistol up and pressed it against her forehead.

 

“Go on, try it. I'd like to see if a biotic field can stop a shot from point-blank.”

 

She grimaced. “Maybe I'll look as pretty as you.”

 

“It's not your looks, sweetheart, it's your shitty attitude.”

 

The rest of the crew looked nervously around at each other and it was only until Tyrus banged on the pilot's door in a panic that Zaeed realized they had all pressed themselves flat against the shuttle walls. He then heard his pilot shout back, “Hey! We don't need this shuttle getting blown up because you too are having a pissing match!”

 

Ah, mercenary groups. No respect for the chain of command. It's why he fucking loved them. He stared Jack down for another moment, then relaxed and holstered his pistol. Naked hatred still in her eyes, she considered him for a moment, but then the blue shimmer disappeared around her.

 

“You want to get yourself killed, girly? You go do it on your own time. When it's just your arse on the line.” He sat down moodily as far away from her as possible.

 

She crossed her arms, brooding and with a flick of her finger picked up some new piece of debris and began pinging it off the side of the shuttle. “Cry me a river, Massani.”

 

***

 

Zaeed winced slightly as he taped up his ribs. He had slapped medi-gel on just about everything else, but some things never changed and one of those was the fact that you couldn't do much about broken ribs but wait. His ship didn't have a proper med bay and he wasn't going to check into a hospital. 

 

She was no Normandy, even he could appreciate the beauty of that hunk of metal, but he was damn proud of the Nihlus. The Illusive Man hadn't taken kindly to his anti-Cerberus operations after the assault on the Collector Base, but the advance payment he'd received was still more credits than he'd ever received on a job. So he bought an old Turian ship (named after the Spectre), and a damn good investment it turned out to be. Building up a core crew had come easily after that, it was easier to find loyal men when you could provide them with their own bed. There were some transients, always were in a merc crew, but only one had been stupid enough to try and double-cross him and he'd met a sticky end.

 

Grimacing, he wasn't getting any younger, he wiped down the dried blood obscuring his tattoos before tossing the wet rag aside. Just a few more scars to add to the rest. Sitting down heavily on the table, he lit a smoke and consulted his datapad. He wasn't taking any of it in, the dimly lit screen was more a backdrop while he sorted out his thoughts.

 

The Eclipse had shown up. Fucking Asari. He had gone over the intel again with Tyrus, who was arguably his second in command and had brokered the operation, and knew the Turian hadn't messed up. Which meant someone had stabbed him in the back and if Aria T'Loak was involved he was damn sure he knew who. Just not why. He would know for certain if the credits for the bounty didn't go through, but that still meant going to Omega right into her fucking kingdom. Or queendom, whatever. He'd have to consider he'd be walking into an ambush.

 

He tossed the datapad away, taking a deep drag off the smoke and leaning back against the wall. Too bad owning his own ship didn't mean his personal quarters came with better than a hard cot. He felt like he could sleep for a day, coming down from the adrenaline a hell of a firefight and arsed up job came with.

 

 _Fucking demented bitch_... she had shut herself down in one of the lower cargo bays in a sulk, as per usual. He didn't care, so long as she kept a deck between him right now, because he was still tempted to shove her out the air lock.

 

***

 

Jack was pacing, she still felt the hum of energy within her and her skin was crawling. She hated this part...the waiting. The do nothing, the just sit around and twiddle your damn thumbs because the fight was over, but you were still alive.

 

She didn't care that Zaeed had tossed her around and shouted at her – the fight had just gotten better when the Eclipse showed up. She had actually felt like she would have to stay on her toes to not get killed, a feeling that a group of dumbass batarian pirates just couldn't satisfy. She had felt alive, electric and had needed an ice cold shower to come down off the high.

 

But now she was coming down and she just felt that itch humming through her again. It had been that way since the Reaper war ended. She thought that it would finally be over, that things would change, that she would be happy...

 

Jack aimed a punch at the wall that left a significant dent. _Stupid_. 

 

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sting of her knuckles, scraped raw from the wall. She would not think about the Reaper war. She would not think about what she had lost, and how little had changed when it ended. Better to move on. Survive. And not dwell on how all of what Shepard had said about letting people in and all that bullshit was a lie. No, maybe not a lie for others, she had grown enough to accept that much. But that for her, it was just another thing she wasn't going to be allowed. Survive.

 

Fuck, she needed a drink.

 

Hauling herself to her feet in a black mood, she ran up the stairs instead of using the elevator to work off some steam. The Nihlus had a cramped mess hall she usually ate in, but she knew the good liquor was kept in the storage room that doubled as the med bay. It was kept in the same cabinet along with a haphazard supply of gauze and medi-gel.

 

She burst in, not expecting anyone to be inside, and ignored Zaeed who was working on his second smoke and headed straight for the cabinet. He didn't acknowledge her presence either until she pulled out the good scotch and took a drink straight from the neck.

 

“That's for medicinal purposes.”

 

She didn't bother to look at him, taking another swig. “Sure you should be smoking in medical?”

 

He glared at her, his good eye flashing, and picked up his datapad and ignored her again. 

 

“How soon until we're in Omega?”

 

He rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward on the table as he continued to consult his datapad. “Might not be a while.”

 

Her mouth opened to form an angry protest, before she thought better of it and it twisted into a grimace instead. “I got some unused creds to burn on shore leave. I'm going crazy cooped up in here.”

 

“You're going crazy all right, sweetheart.”

 

She let out a hollow, 'ha ha' and leaned against the wall, drinking more scotch. She examined him through narrowed eyes, she had never seen Zaeed shirtless before let alone out of his armour. He wasn't the type to wear casuals often and she joked with the pilot (Sherri, the only other chick on board) that he slept with it on. She had seen hints of his tattoos on his arm, and her  gaze now raked over the myriad others that covered his body.

 

He glanced up at her briefly, noticing the undue attention. “See something you like? I can hook you up with the asari that did most of it.”

 

Jack smirked. “Show me yours, I'll show you mine.” She took another drink from the bottle. “Just seeing if you were in any prisons I've been in.”

 

He snorted. “I was never stupid enough to get caught, sweetheart.”

 

That dropped the smirk off her face and she muttered 'jackass' under her breath. He glanced up again and noticed the hand clutching the bottle had new scrapes along the knuckles. “Quit punching holes in my ship unless you want it docked out of your share.”

 

Jack made a rude gesture with the hand in question. “You don't pay me enough to keep my hands to myself, Massani. How much is my share this time around, anyway?”

 

His datapad 'pinged' and a dark look crossed his face that had nothing to do with her. He got up off the table with the limber grace of a seasoned fighter and she involuntarily took a step back, her threat instincts were always on. But he just grabbed the bottle out of her hand and drank from it as well, tossing the datapad aside.

 

“Nothing. Aria isn't transferring the credits for the bounty, like I thought. You can never trust an Asari bitch.”


	2. Chapter 2

            Her name was Nyara. Devious bitch. A dancer from Chora's Den, back when that shithole was still around. Had a thing for bad boys and he had gotten his scar from Vido by then, and she had given him enough free dances and some VIP time he normally would have had to pay out the nose for to catch his attention. Legs for days and an arse that wouldn't quit. Goddamn, but she had been good in bed.

 

            He had been between jobs at the time, but with a damn good haul of credits that he earned himself a bit of a spending vacation before the next bounty. She had been a lot of fun, they got shitfaced, danced, fucked, caused a lot of trouble and he didn't even mind waking up to her most mornings. Sure, he'd been with a few dancers before and knew their love was undying only until the credits ran out, but he had a good enough stash that it hadn't been a pressing worry. Not a lot seemed to be a worry when most nights he had his head between her pert breasts as she squirmed in his lap and panted his name.

 

            He had been young, but he wasn't stupid enough to think they had anything in common apart from having lots of sex with each other. But he was young enough to start to get complacent and think maybe he would like to have sex with only her and keep her around as a permanent squeeze.

 

            Things soured quick after he caught her looking through his omni-tool and he snuck back to her work and saw the group of Blood Pack waiting to ambush him. He got passage for the next flight off the station and put a bullet in her head on his way to the shuttle. Didn't give her a chance to finish her bullshit sentence about how she loved him and was sorry.

 

            He had always known about betrayal in love and that he was in a profession where you had to keep your guard up. But it was one thing to know it by rote and another to have such a forceful practical lesson in the matter. Still, he had a weakness for pretty Asari girls with tight bodies after that, though he never invited them back to where he was staying.

 

 

***

 

            “Damn it. “ Tyrus cursed softly, running a hand through his fringe. “Then what the hell do we do about him?”

 

            He gave an irritable jerk to the holding cell with the batarian smuggler inside. Thankfully, Zaeed had sprung the extra credits to have a proper setup and a soundproofed cell so the bastard couldn't hear what they were saying.

 

            “You can always give him to me for target practice.” Jack smirked.

 

            “Yeah, and you could use it too, sweetheart. Now shut up.” Zaeed considered the smuggler, who noticed the attention and watched them nervously. “We might need him for leverage, so keep feeding him. We need a chance to get more intel on what the fuck that crazy bitch is up to.”

 

            Tyrus nodded, rapping his hand sharply on the cell wall and laughing as the batarian smuggler spooked. “Could grab some backup too. Still got my contacts on the Silversun Strip.”

 

            “Citadel space? Don't know if we'd be too welcome there.” Jack crossed her arms across her chest. “But, hey, I don't mind tangling with C-Sec.”

 

            “Yeah, and I won't bail your arse out if you piss them off.” Zaeed snapped. “What can your contact get us?”

 

            Tyrus shrugged. “Could get us in touch with Talon company for a back way into Afterlife. At the very least...lots of guns.”

 

            “More guns sounds fun.” Jack just raised an eyebrow at Zaeed's silent glare for her to shut up again.

 

            He lightly smacked the back of the pilot's seat. “Plot a course for the Citadel, factory district docking.”

 

            “You got it, boss man.” Sherri pulled up navigation and the Nihlus rumbled as its main engine began to warm up.

 

 

***

 

            A couple hundred credits and an opportunistic Volus (so...a Volus), and the Nihlus was safely docked without going through official C-Sec channels. So long as they kept things quiet they could go about the Citadel undetected. Jack had pulled on her favourite dancing boots and waved, “later, losers” before he could lecture her about what 'keeping things quiet' meant.

 

            Tyrus' man turned out to be another Turian who ran one of the armaments kiosk in the lower Zakera ward. Zaeed picked up a few spare parts for his rifle as Tyrus talked business. Tyrus was another veteran like him, he was ex-Talon, though he hadn't been doing the job as long as Zaeed had. Zaeed wasn't sure if there was any merc alive who had been doing the job as long as he had, he had killed most of them.

 

            When Tyrus reemerged from the back store room he looked optimistic so Zaeed took that as a good sign. “He'll look into it for us, don't know how long it will take, but shouldn't be more than a week.”

 

            “What's he want in return?”

 

            “Getting some heat from an Illium trading broker who wants to raise his fees on moving product.”

 

            Zaeed raised an eyebrow. “Shake down or disappear?”

 

            Tyrus shrugged. “Doesn't matter to him so long as he isn't getting gouged.”

 

            “Simple enough. We'll make a stop.”

 

            “Good.” Tyrus stretched out his arms with a satisfied groan. “Let's get a drink.”

 

 

***

 

            “RAAH!”

 

            Jack threw her head back and then snapped it forward, crashing into the krogan's head plate with all her might. She saw stars explode in front of her eyes, but heard the krogan grunt and then break into gravelly laughter. She was laughing too, rubbing her forehead and slamming down another shot.

 

            “Shit, that's gonna hurt.” The other patrons in the bar started pounding their fists in unison , egging them on.

 

            “My turn.”

 

            Zaeed and Tyrus came up to the upper level of the bar in time to see the krogan throw his head back and then snap it forward with a drunken battle cry. Zaeed thought for sure the girl's face was going to be liquefied and drew his pistol, but instead the krogan was thrown back and the blue shimmer of a kinetic barrier rippled in front of Jack. She laughed even harder at the krogan's dazed look as he rubbed his head plate, pounding the table with her fist and spilling her drink on the floor.

 

            There was a lot of unhappy grumbling from the spectators who had been running bets, except for one ecstatic salarian who seemed to be the only one who had bet on Jack. She didn't even notice the crowd's swiftly changing mood, still snorting and pointing at the krogan, trying to find her lost drink with her free hand. Tyrus gave Zaeed a look and they rolled their eyes.

 

            Zaeed pulled out Jack's chair, causing her to almost stumble to the floor. He growled into her ear, “Keeping things quiet doesn't mean getting goddamn pissed in an hour.”

 

            She was still laughing, wiping a stray tear from her eye. “Did you see his big, dumb face?”

 

            “She was cheating!” Complained one of the spectators, the crowd swiftly agreeing. Zaeed had been around long enough to know when to make an exit before things get ugly, and they were about to get ugly. Another drunk patron yelled, “No one said anything about using biotics!”

 

            The krogan was slowly getting to his feet, and he was finally catching onto what Jack was gasping between laughs. It also looked like he didn't appreciate being called dumb and ugly by a little human woman he towered over. Sighing, Zaeed grasped her arm and hauled her to her feet, but the girl was so shitfaced (he didn't know he she managed it), she was having trouble staying upright.

 

            “We better get her back to the ship before we get more heat than bouncers.” Tyrus looked half-worried, half-impressed.

 

            “Wait, I had Sherri with me.” Jack looked around in a daze, still holding back giggles. “Sherri? Bitch, where are you?”

 

            “Corrupting my pilot now are you?” She tried batting him away but kept missing his face by inches.

 

            “I found her.” Tyrus moved aside a bar stool to find their pilot slumped on the ground, curled in the foetal position. He picked up the empty glass Jack had been drinking out of and sniffed it gingerly.

 

            Zaeed sighed. “Let me guess, they were drinking ryncol with a goddamn krogan?”

 

            Tyrus tossed the glass aside and didn't say anything, but the look on his face said enough.

 

            “I got something to sort with her.” The krogan gave Zaeed a shove, the other bar patrons getting to their feet. Zaeed pointed his pistol to the krogan's face. “I wouldn't try it, son.”

 

            “Hey!” The harassed bartender shouted at them. “You can't have weapons in here! I'm calling security.”

 

            Tyrus scooped Sherri up into his arms and nodded at Zaeed. “Got our pilot.”

 

            Jack was trying to grab Zaeed's pistol now and aim it at the grumbling crowd. “Don't. Touch.” Clicking his teeth in annoyance he grabbed her wrist with one hand, moved his other arm around her legs and slung him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. He jerked his head at Tyrus. “Let's go.”

 

            They ran out the bar, each literally with their hands full. Sherri was groaning and trying not to be sick as she was jostled in Tyrus' arms. Over Zaeed's back, Jack was trying to send bolts of biotic energy firing at the pissed krogan who was charging after them, but bouncing off of Zaeed's back her aim was shot to hell. That, and the ryncol wasn't helping.

 

            Zaeed managed to buy Tyrus some time to jack a skycar by firing a warning volley at the krogan's feet. He dumped Jack and Sherri unceremoniously in the back. “You ladies have a fun night? Goddamn idiots.”

 

            They managed to shake the krogan and bar security easily after that, and Tyrus soon merged the car with other sky traffic and left the chaos behind. “All I wanted was a drink,” he kept muttering under his breath, and Sherri moaned what sounded like it could have been an apology from the back. For all his grumbling, Tyrus was still gentle when he picked her up at the docks and carried her back to the Nihlus. Zaeed had a feeling the turian was a little sweet on her.

 

            Zaeed was pissed, and Jack was still laughing for fuck's sake, so he slung her over his back again and hauled her ass back into the ship less gently. She groaned a little, struggling to prop her head up, arms slipping uselessly off his back and then just gave up and went limp.

 

            “You gonna carry me the whole way, old man?”

 

            He shifted her weight on his shoulder, jostling her a little harder than necessary, and kept a firm grip on her ass so she wouldn't slip onto the floor. He went down the stairs to the lower cargo bay of the Nihlus two at a time and was rewarded to hear her groan in pain as she clutched her head.

 

            “Oh, sweetheart, I hope the hangover tomorrow knocks you on your arse.”

 

            “Nope.” She clumsily tapped the side of her temple. “L5 implants, remember? I don't get hungover.”

 

            “Naw, just goddamn drunk, I see.” She was slipping off his shoulder again and he grasped her more firmly.

 

            “You trying to cop a feel, old man?” She slurred.

 

            “In your dreams, sweetheart.” Though he did the notice just how firm her arse did feel under his hand and couldn't help give it a little squeeze. He was only human after all. What was even more satisfying was finally making it to the cargo hold where she bunked and dropping her into a heap on the floor with a _thump_.

 

            “And the next time you try and out drink a krogan I won't be feeling as charitable.”

 

            “Oh my god,” she groaned, “don't start lecturing me for fuck's sake.” She rose unsteadily to her feet, gave her head a good shake, and her eyes did seem to lose a little of their glazed look. “You should have left me there. Could have had a good ol' barfight. Maybe even gotten laid. Shit.”

 

            Zaeed rolled his eyes, his arms crossed against his chest. “You're seriously complaining about a lack of bedmates on this enterprise?”

 

            She sauntered up to him, her feet still a little unsteady, and poked him in the chest. She had that smug grin on her face, narrowed eyes looking up at him and her voice lowered to a purr. “You aren't? Shame that little squeeze was the only action you've been getting for a while.”

 

            Zaeed merely raised an eyebrow. She was an idiot if she thought he would rise to such petty bait. She usually knew better. Then again, the girl was still obnoxiously drunk. “You'll have to do better than that, sweetheart. Now why don't you sleep it off and stop giving me a goddamn headache?”

 

            She wasn't taking the hint and he was the only target for her many frustrations. She slammed a hand down on either side of his head against the wall, her eyes dangerous, arching her body in close. “Handled a lot of girls like me before, Massani?”

 

            He decided he'd had enough as she started toying with the collar of his armour, and surprised her by grabbing her ass and pulling her body right against his. As he suspected, she was completely caught off guard and flustered, pushing her hands against the chest plate of his armour to get away, but he held firm. He pushed his face closer to hers, watching as her eyes widened a little, afraid, knowing she'd pushed too far.

 

            “Sure, I have. Cheated on prettier girls than you before too. Don't play me for stupid, sweetheart. I don't play the juvenile games you do.”

 

            He finally released her and she stumbled backwards a step. A genuine grimace was on her face now that her pride was hurt, and she murmured, “Yeah. Fuck you.”

 

            “Sweet dreams.” He turned and started to make his way out of the hold when she called out, “ _Hey_.” He stopped for a moment without turning to look back, but already from the tone of that one word he knew more than the drink was talking. “Why do you always worry about me?” The silence hung in the air between them and he left without answering.

 

 

***

 

            Pragia.

 

            A nightmare shithole.

 

            If he thought Jack was bad now he only had to think back to their suicide mission to give her credit that the girl had come a long way. She was a hell of a lot worse back then, wild like a feral animal with those scraps of leather strapping her tits down as if they could hold back something worse inside of her. He hadn't been to the prison ship when they sprung her, only heard about the impressive trail of destruction she'd left behind.

 

            But he heard her, every night, no matter what the hour, pacing up and down the bottom of the ship. His hearing had gone to shit over the years of gunshots and grenades blasting in his vicinity, but he didn't sleep too easily either and always heard her, pacing, pacing – footsteps beating an erratic tattoo of her demons.

 

            He didn't know too much about the Teltin Facility beforehand, but Shepard brought him on the mission with just a hollow “I think we might need someone with your experience” and they were packed off into the shuttle. Jack was a nervous wreck of hatred and rage the entire way, though he could then clearly see the deep vulnerable cracks in her armour as they made it closer to her old home. Her old prison.

 

            When he first dumped his things on the Normandy he didn't think anyone had the amount of baggage he carried with him, not even Vakarian. He knew about having a squad mate stab you in the back after all. But it seemed their feisty Subject Zero bitch had a planet's worth more of garbage following her around and he had felt sorry for her then.

 

            Twenty years of seeing Vido's smug fucking face every time he sighted down the barrel of his rifle, and of hearing his shitty laugh whenever he saw his bad eye in a reflection...he didn't think anything could make his blood run cold after that until he saw the cells they had kept children in on the Teltin Facility.

 

            “I still get warm feelings during a fight.” The smile on her face then, when she looked at the arena she had been forced to kill other children in, he recognized it. It was the kind of smile that was a degree away from an animal baring its teeth when it was backed up into a corner.

 

            When they ran into one of the kids from the experiments, Zaeed just felt fucking sorry for that bastard too. He would still have put a bullet through his head though, but Jack hesitated. Then she lowered her gun. He got to see and smell Vido burn and twenty years of his life sizzle up, put that shit behind him, but Jack spared that sorry asshole's life. It was just a desperately sad, pathetic situation and he found he couldn't judge her mercy.

 

            She still blew the place up to hell, good girl, but he could tell as she played with the detonator that she still wasn't leaving it behind for good. You don't get rid of some scars. And he realized he'd carried a lot of shit around with him for twenty years like she had, but he'd never been a victim quite in the same way. It was sobering to think about. He rarely had much pity for himself or others.

 

            He never said a word about Pragia to her or Shepard after they made it back to the Normandy. Never really spoke to her or anyone, really, he liked to keep to himself. But he remembered thinking he was glad she had a few people around her now, a crew, and that she should always have a place other than that hell to go back to.

 

 

***

 

            “I've done a lot of bad things in my day, but this…”

 

            Zaeed hadn't said much of anything on Pragia, though Jack could tell he was fully 'on' and not cruising through the mission because some things came easy to him. Shepard was just full of questions, and she had found the prying annoying but also really good in a way. It was finally time for her to talk about some of that shit.

 

            When they walked through the ruined barracks...cells, that the other kids had been kept in, Zaeed let that slip almost as if he hadn't expected to say it out loud. She didn't know why, but now and again she wondered what had forced those words out of him. Was it really so terrible? What kind of bad shit had he done before? Could another killer like her have the morals that would make Pragia look like a step too far?

 

            Did it make her strong or fucked up that forever now she'd think anything she could do would never be so bad as that hellhole?

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jack woke up, as promised, without the hangover she so rightly deserved from drinking ryncol and only served to be more irritating as she remembered every minute of the night before. Zaeed certainly heard a lot more cheeky comments about tattoos at his age when he grounded her on the ship because they couldn't risk more attention from the Citadel authorities, and she was liable to cause some.

 

Tyrus finally heard back from his contact and some of Zaeed's suspicions were confirmed. Aria had definitely tipped off the Eclipse mercs to the job, though to what purpose he still couldn't guess. Tantalizingly, whether she had sent them to the base on a capture or eliminate order was strictly out of their contact's pay grade, and looked as if it had been kept deliberately so. Was she sending in two teams as a double investment? Was it a trap for him or someone else on his crew? Nothing was ever simple with the bitch queen of Omega.

 

Another day of waiting and it seemed Tyrus' contact had done all he could. Jack was howling with boredom and fury for being kept on the ship, and Sherri the pilot was still knocked out in bed with the hangover from hell. She was lucky she hadn't burned her goddamn stomach lining drinking that krogan piss.

 

“Well,” Tyrus clicked irritably, his mandibles flaring, “we can't fly anywhere until our pilot gets her head out of the toilet.”

 

Zaeed gave in, he had enough caterwauling on his ship. He banged on Jack's door and told her to wear some sensible foot wear. If they were stuck on the Citadel for another day they were going to be goddamn productive about it.

 

***

 

“Is this a date, old man? Hey! You going to win me something at the arcade?” Jack was positively bouncing on her heels, happy to just be let out of the ship for a few hours that she was even doing her best to not be too fucking horrible to him in case he changed his mind.

 

When she saw them approaching the Armax Arena her eyes lit up and she grew even more excited. “Oh _fuck_ yes. You should see my score for the spin zone-”

 

He cut her off as he handed a pile of credits over to the registration counter. “It's not fun and games today, sweetheart. You're going to get some proper goddamn combat training.”

 

She scowled. “What? I could smear the walls with you.”

 

“No biotics. Not today. You might want to pipe down and open your ears for this. I've forgotten more dirty tricks than you'll ever learn.”

 

She raised an eyebrow at that, but kept quiet because the promise of some time in the combat simulator was too tempting to screw up. He ignored her name on the leaderboards, she could prattle on about winning some fucking game all she wanted, and punched in all the disabilities for no medi-gel, no extra ammo boxes and no shields.

 

He wasn't as sparing in the locker room though as he tossed her a standard pistol, shotgun, assault rifle and sniper rifle. She ran her fingers lovingly over the shot gun and he raised a warning finger to her. “If you employ biotics in the sim I will shoot you in the head and end it.”

 

“Whatever, old man.”

 

She still wasn't taking him seriously, but Zaeed was sure he'd be making her swallow her smug smirk by the end of it all. He had picked some medium terrain against standard Cerberus troops and she was already laughing, thinking how easy it would be. _Whatever_ , as she liked to say.

 

They huddled against some cover as the hostile timer counted down. “Pistols first. Show me you know how to line a headshot, girl.”

 

“ _Hostiles in arena.”_

 

She hummed with excitement, eager for an opportunity to unleash herself. He watched carefully beside her as her first shot found its target and a Cerberus trooper's helmet caved in just below the eye. A second trooper and the shot grazed off target, a second hitting center mass. He placed a hand on her wrist and jerked her arm down before she could take another shot and she hissed at him.

 

“They're going to flank us!”

 

“This isn't about having fun in a bloodbath today, sweetheart.” He growled, then impatiently positioned her arms so that her forearms were resting on a ledge. “Your recoil makes you go wild after the first few shots. Steady yourself against something or hold your gun with both goddamn hands.”

 

Moodily she looked away from him, and then looked almost resentful when her next three targets fell down with shots perfectly cracking open their visors. She muttered, “You hold your pistol in one hand.”

 

“I'm bigger than you are. Watch your right.”

 

She turned just as a Cerberus trooper started to sneak up on her and then fell down, blood spurting through the cracks of his helmet. Zaeed coolly popped the thermal clip out of his pistol with a smoky _hiss_.

 

He pointed to the last trooper. “Heavy pistol like this hasn't got the stopping power of a rifle. Your target's other weak points are there, there-” he demonstrated each by firing a shot to the knees, the elbows, throat, a rude one to the groin, and the one that surprised her was a precise shot just under the clavicle. “Collapse a lung.” He explained.

 

She moved some hair out of her face, watching the battle field eagerly. “ _Wave complete. Next Wave in 5...4..._ ”

 

“Next, shotgun.”

 

“ _Yesss_...” Her breath came out in a sultry hiss as she hefted the gun into her arms. Zaeed had met a lot of sick bitches in his day, but he didn't think he'd met one that got as aroused by combat as she did. Probably the goddamn implants Cerberus had stamped into her brain years and years ago.

 

“You gonna hold my hand on this one too, old man?” She snickered, launching herself over the cover ledge. “Let me guess? Shotgun – _close range_.”

 

Zaeed didn't even bother, watching from his vantage point as the next wave materialized and she threw herself headlong into the fray. The shot gun blasted a couple troopers away from her and she was laughing again, caught up in the battlelust as she elbowed a third in the face and then vented his chest with a point-blank shot. He saw the familiar blue aura flare up around her then as she collected a ball of energy in her hand...

 

...and then calmly aimed his pistol at her head and fired.

 

***

 

When Jack came to it was to see stars dancing in front of her eyes. She shook her head clear, realized she'd only been out for a few seconds, but the simulator had vanished around them. She saw red and hurled herself at Zaeed, shoving him as hard as she could against his chest plate.

 

“You fucking prick! What the hell did you do that for!”

 

“I told you, girl,” he snarled back, “if you used your biotics I would end the simulator and give you a goddamn headache for your trouble. Do you _ever_ listen?”

 

She punched him square in the jaw and he staggered back a half-step. “What is the point of this anyway if you're not just trying to piss me off?”

 

He slammed her back and her head connected against the wall, rattling. She gasped for breath, blinking away stars again and feeling a pounding in her temples. The concussive shot she'd just received wasn't helping matters. Her biotics flared again, but this time he caught both of her wrists in one hand and twisted her arms painfully above her head, the muzzle of his pistol nudging warningly under her chin.

 

When he spoke, he didn't raise his voice, but it was filled with the kind of low menace that made her pay attention, a chill running down her spine. “You're undisciplined, and you'll get someone else killed with your recklessness. I told you before, Jack, if you've got a death wish you won't get one of my men killed along with you. I've given you a shot, more than most would, but if you want to go back and play nice with the Alliance-”

 

She almost spat in his face. “Don't talk to me about those fucks.”

 

He saw a real, deep-seated anger there that wasn't directed at him and it caught him slightly off-guard. Intrigued him. He sensed there was another story there, hidden amongst the hatred and pain, but he realized now wasn't the time to pry and held his tongue on the matter. He released his grip and she rubbed her wrists.

 

“Well then, you're a real merc now, girl, not some psychotic bitch army of one. It's easy to tell you've never been trained properly in your life, just relied on smashing things out of your way until now.”

 

She snarled, “It's worked every time.”

 

“ _You could learn some finesse_.” He took a deep breath and softened. “You'd be really unstoppable with some precision. If we've got to take on Aria goddamn T'Loak and whatever she can throw at us I can't have a wild card running amok.”

 

That caught Jack off guard and her eyes narrowed. “Is that what's going on?”

 

“You actually act like you're part of a goddamn team, maybe you'd be caught up on the news. Instead of sulking around in your cargo hold-”

 

“All right, _all right_.” Jack held up a hand, weary, cutting him off. She rubbed at her temple, her head was seriously aching. She gave him a shrewd look. “We killed a bunch of Reapers and you're worried about one asari bitch?”

 

Zaeed didn't smirk back. “All it takes is one time you get complacent, girly.”

 

Jack took a deep breath, biting back on all the smartass retorts she had for that. Finally, “Okay, can we get back in the sim?”

 

***

 

“Exhale...”

 

Jack sighed a little with frustration, wriggling her hips into the ground to find a more comfortable position as she looked down the scope of the sniper rifle. She exhaled and fired off a round, but it hit the hostile trooper in the shoulder rather than in the helmet where she had been aiming.

 

“ _Fuck_.”

 

Zaeed was crouched on the ground beside her, hip to hip, and he reached over, his chin grazing the top of her head, as he re-positioned her arms. “Distribute your weight more evenly and you'll get less shake.”

 

Jack looked down the scope again, her heart hammering in her chest. She was never good at delayed gratification, and sniping took patience she didn't really have. She saw a trooper moving through cover towards them. “Get that fucker.”

 

Zaeed looked down his scope and after a tense moment, Jack saw the trooper's chest explode as he slumped against the crate he was hiding behind. She smiled, a low hum vibrating in her throat as she wriggled her hips into the dirt floor again. “Okay, I'll get that fucker over by the barrels.”

 

“Watch your breathing,” Zaeed warned, but Jack's shot went off too early and parts of the barrel exploded. He heard her frustrated “ _shit_ ” beside him, but decided it was a victory that she was at least half-listening to him. “Vakarian's got a knack for it, 's got some way of timing in between heartbeats, but...well, never got the hang of it.”

 

“Garrus? I liked him. Bit awkward though.” Jack fired again and this time managed to take out the trooper while he was ducking for his next bit of cover.

 

Zaeed gestured for her to move her head out of the way and he sighted down her rifle, placing a hand in the small of her back to steady himself. He could feel her heart hammering in her chest, her breathing rapid as she was losing herself more to the onrush of a kill. Crazy bitch. Still, couldn't judge her. “We got one bastard left by the shelter over there. I don't think you're good enough for headshots yet, but get him center mass.”

 

Jack ignored the jab, impatiently shrugging him off of her and sighted down her scope. She exhaled, shakily, and fired. “ _Final wave completed. Match goes to Massani_.”

 

Jack snorted. “It was my kill.”

 

“And my bloody credits.”

 

She leapt up to her feet, though, a wide grin plastered on her face and that dangerous light in her eyes again. “That was awesome, I'm _so_ horny. I want to kill something for real now.”

 

Zaeed packed away his sniper rifle and slung it over his back. “I should get psych evals for new recruits from now on.”

 

Jack was still positively humming with endorphins while they packed the gear away in the Armax locker room and he could see trouble in her eyes. His suspicions were confirmed when she placed a hand on his chest plate and steered him until the backs of his thighs bumped against the weapons shelf. One of his eyebrows raised, but he regarded her coolly.

 

“Got something on your mind?”

 

She tilted her head slightly to the side, her full lips quirking into that smug smirk. “You keep showing me a good time like this, Massani, and I might start to like you.”

 

“Will goddamn miracles never cease?”

 

She was done talking, wrapping a leg around his and pulling him abruptly towards her as she sealed her lips over his. She nipped at his bottom lip, her tongue already seeking purchase inside his mouth. He kissed back, he was still goddamn alive, grabbing her by the hips and crushed her against him. But when she pulled back, a self-satisfied look on her face, it was to be met by his still impassive expression.

 

“Too rough for you?” The sneer in her voice had an unsure, humiliated tinge.

 

He snorted, leaning against the weapons shelf. “If you just wanted a snog, sweetheart, you only had to ask.”

 

Her eyes flashed with anger. She  could hear the mockery in his tone and she didn't like being made a fool of. “You trying to make me mad, old man? I do fuck better when I'm mad.”

 

Zaeed laughed out loud this time, swiftly chilling her high-running passions. “A quick shag in the Armax locker room? You are a classy one, aren't you?”

 

He pushed himself off the weapons shelf and started to make his way out the door. She grabbed his arm, her eyes blazing with that unique mixture of haughtiness and hatred that she had. “You want to tell me you're better than that? Don't make me laugh.”

 

“Sure, you're a good-looking girl. You know that. But I'm not some goddamn slave to my impulses and I'm not some goddamn toy.” He gave her a pitying look then that made all lust burn away into a flare of rage. “Thought you were smarter than that, sweetheart.”

 

He closed the door behind him just as a flare of biotics escaped her and sent weapons smashing into the walls around her.

 

***

 

Jack ran her tongue along the outer curve of his ear and felt him shudder beneath her, her lips curving into a pleased grin before she started nibbling down his neck. She was sure this was violating the 'don't fuck with C-Sec' rule of shore leave, but right now she just couldn't give two shits. She picked the first young, blonde thing that walked by and within five minutes had him up against a dark alleyway in the lower markets whimpering just to touch her. He'd get into trouble for abandoning his patrol, and he was too green to make up a convincing lie to his CO, but she'd be long gone before then.

 

His pants were undone with a few skillful motions of her fingers and she pressed herself against him, feeling his heart beat against her skin, knowing she could make him think about her for the next few nights after. Maybe even a week,

 

Use, or be used. And she was tired of feeling like she never got the upper hand. She was still running high off of endorphins and disappointment, and it was probably the brutal conditioning she had received in Pragia, but she had long ago stopped trying to discern whether her emotions were artificially induced. They were hers. It was enough. Thinking about it too hard just left more dents in the walls.

 

She came back to the Nihlus with a few minutes to spare before they took off, stinking of sweat and sex, ignoring everyone as she headed to the lower decks where she could pace around in her den some more.

 

***

 

“So, where do you think I should get it?”

 

Tyrus' mandibles flared slightly as he tried to hold in a laugh. “Oh, a butt cheek definitely.”

 

Sherri punched him in the shoulder and hid her embarrassed blush behind a bottle of beer. Jack stalked in to see some of the crew swapping stories at the mess hall, making a beeline for the pantry as she assembled the world's sloppiest sandwich. Sherri tipped her beer bottle at her.

 

“Jack, where's the most painful place to get ink?”

 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn't you be flying this hunk of metal?”

 

Sherri shrugged. “We've got a few hours of drift ahead of us until we hit a fuel reserve. I got a navigation VI, don't sweat it.” The mass relays for every major spaceport had been repaired in the last few years, but some of the outer systems were still a bitch to get to. With the heavy influx of traffic a priority-based wait had been placed on the major relays, and the Nihlus was a shitty frigate that didn't come high on the list. It meant for a lot of time to kill on board.

 

Jack considered the question, then gave her a lascivious smirk. “For a girl or a guy?” There was a ripple of laughter and then Jack answered seriously, plunking herself down on a chair backwards. “The head. The skin's really thin there, you can feel every time the needle goes in. Hurts like a bitch.”

 

“So, again, get one on your butt cheek. _Lots_ of padding.” Tyrus dodged the next blow aimed at his head with a grin and satisfied 'click' of his mandibles.

 

“That right, boss man? The head's the worst place?”

 

Zaeed had been watching quietly from a corner, smoking as per usual (it was his ship, goddamnit), and shrugged. “Wouldn't know, sweetheart. Never got it done.”

 

Sherri gave him a lewd little grin. “So where's the most painful place you've gotten one?”

 

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

 

Jack had already finished her food, she wasn't a dainty eater and old habits, like wolfing down something before it could be taken away from you, died hard. “What's a nice girl like you doing getting ink and running with a bunch of scuzzy mercs anyway, Sherr?”

 

As if to prove she wasn't a 'nice girl' the pilot shotgunned the rest of her beer and cracked open another one. There were already a couple empty cans collecting beside her chair. She could still hold her own in a bar, ryncol not withstanding. “Colony kid, Horizon actually before all that shit went to hell. Skipped out with an old boyfriend looking for some easy credits and adventure. Caught the asshole between some dancer's legs and blew his kneecap off with some shitty blackmarket pistol.”

 

Jack snorted. “Atta girl.”

 

“I was aiming for his balls.” Sherri gave a significant look to Tyrus, who gave her a pained expression. “Ran some guns and red sand off Illium for a while. Always had me flying transport, I just had a knack for it. Things went tits up on a job, got hit by some other pirates and our pilot was dead.” She nodded towards Tyrus. “This one threw my ass into the pilot's seat and turned out I'm a quick learner.”

 

Tyrus gave a satisfied ' _hmmm_ ' as he reminisced. “Yeah, you had your hair dyed that stupid colour that made my eyes hurt. Glad you finally grew out of it. That was back when I still ran with Talon, though close to when I was on the outs with them.”

 

“What'd you do?” Jack snatched a beer from Sherri. “Kill your squad leader?”

 

Tyrus smirked. “No, I fucked her. Her brother was heading the company at the time. I don't think he ever got over it.” There was a peal of raucous laughter.

 

“So, did you really run with Shepard?” Sherri's eyes were bright, she had obviously wanted to ask Jack this question for a long time. Jack noticed everyone was paying attention, whether they were being subtle about it or not. Her eyes flickered briefly over to Zaeed who had an eyebrow raised but was keeping resolutely silent. So, he must not have given the crew much to go on either.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What was it like?”

 

Jack felt distinctly uncomfortable for a mixture of reasons. Most of the shit she had done with the crew of the Normandy made for awesome stories she normally wouldn't have minded bragging about in a bar. But the Shepard-mania that had swept the galaxy brought a level of scrutiny which she didn't know how to deal with. Also...while not all of the memories were bittersweet, it was difficult to articulate the intimacy and camaraderie and sometimes even mind-blowing terror those missions and days in the Normandy had been like. She wasn't a very eloquent person to start with. How could she put those months, where it felt like she had finally woken up after so many years, that were so precious to her, in a few simple words?

 

“It was fucking badass.”

 

Even Zaeed chortled a little at that, and Sherri raised her beer bottle to _thunk_ appreciatively against Jack's. She was still caught up a little in the hero-worship though and had more questions spilling forth. “What was he like? How did you guys make it out the Omega 4 relay? What was the Collector base like?”

 

Jack shrugged. “He was a good little Alliance boy scout, but he got shit done.”

 

“How'd you end up on the crew? Where are you from?”

 

Jack took a careful sip of her beer and didn't notice that Zaeed had his good eye trained intently on her. Her little smirk was still twisting around her lips, but it had frozen slightly. She casually shrugged her shoulders, however, whatever dark moment she had relived passing across her eyes. “You haven't heard of it.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was a boring three days cooped up on the ship until they finally docked in Illium. Drinking, card games, drinking games, and numerous failed attempts to finally repair Jessie. With Jack on board though, Zaeed took it as a blessing that the trip was a safe 'boring' and not 'wantonly destructive'.

 

He was glad to finally just stretch his legs, maybe get some real work done. They at least had the trading broker pissing of Tyrus' friend to pay a visit to, and maybe on Illium there would be a chance to tap into some Eclipse chatter and see what the fuck was going with the pirate queen of Omega.

 

The ground team strolled across the factory district to the shipping warehouse the broker normally worked out of. He brought Jack along of course, because despite being a goddamn ticking time bomb, sometimes having a shit ton of biotic ordinance on your side was a good deterrent to any troublemakers. She brought her favourite shotgun along with her and before he could even give her a sideways look she held a dismissive hand up to his face and recited, “Effective range five to ten feet, stabilize with both arms close to your centre of gravity and watch the recoil.”

 

He merely grunted, but was inwardly impressed that she had listened to him.

 

The trading broker was another turian piece of shit who thought he controlled his own little kingdom out of a warehouse. He was a bit of a slimeball too, his eyes raking up Jack with intrigue and whistling. “How much for her?”

 

She merely snorted, clubbing him over the head with the shotgun and planting a firm boot heel on his neck when he fell to the ground. “That's cute, honey. Got any more?”

 

“She's way above your pay grade,” Tyrus waved a patronizing finger in front of the other turian's face and was rewarded with a hissed, “Oh shit, it's you.”

 

“Looking for this?” With a swift motion Tyrus ripped a panic button out from under the broker's desk, waving his omni-tool over the exposed wiring beneath, effectively killing the signal. The turian struggled underneath Jack's boot until she let her biotics flare around her. Goddamn showoff.

 

Two krogan bodyguard sauntered in from a backroom, raising their guns as soon as they saw the unfriendly reception. Tyrus coolly shot one in the face, causing him to stagger back, and Jack lifted a flared hand to the other one. Zaeed had his rifle up as well, it didn't do to fuck around with krogan. They didn't always do the smart thing even when they were overpowered, liked getting their hands messy.

 

“ _Kill_ them...” the turian wheezed, but his bodyguards just flipped a rude gesture at him and quickly exited. Zaeed glanced mildly down at the broker. “Guess you don't pay them enough.”

 

“Look, if I tell you anything she'll kill me...”

 

Zaeed silently willed Jack to not give away any surprise. Tyrus was smart enough to know better, but he didn't know if she was. Her eyebrows rose slightly and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but thankfully seemed to take his impassive mask as a cue and said nothing.

 

He looked to the turian, who was sweating bullets. “My associate's in a very good position to break your goddamn neck, so it's really up to you whether you want a prolonged death or not.”

 

“Can you offer me protection?”

 

“No.” It came out as a snort.

 

“Then _fuck_ you-” Jack pushed down a little harder, making the turian splutter. She watched him curiously as spittle began foaming around his mouth and just as his laboured wheezes stopped, she let up. He exploded into a fit of coughing.

 

“Get this crazy bitch off me!” He wheezed.

 

“I like it when you talk dirty, honey.”

 

“Look, I don't know what Aria wants!” Goddamn jackpot. “She just sent the shipment order and I don't ask any questions. I don't even know what they are!”

 

The turian's chest was starting to hitch dangerously and Zaeed gave a gruff jerk of his head. “Ease up.”

 

With great reluctance Jack finally removed her foot, and the turian scrabbled over to his side, wheezing and clutching at this throat. She gave him a none too gentle shove in the head with the muzzle of her shotgun though, winking when she saw Zaeed roll his eyes.

 

“You still got it here?”

 

The turian waved to the back door that led to storage, still massaging his throat. “B-12. They were dropped earlier in the week. Going out again in two days - I don't know where!”

 

Zaeed motioned for Jack to follow him as Tyrus hauled the turian up to his feet and then slammed him against the wall. “Now I want to put in a word for a friend of mine...” he began, waving his pistol menacingly.

 

The two krogan were skulking at the far end of the storage hold, the one that was shot in the face sitting down on a crate and mopping blood off his front plate. He looked like he would survive, that was some impressive natural armour they had. He glared at them as they made their way to B-12, but seemed to think better of starting another fight and then ignored them.

 

There were four massive crates, six foot by fifteen, with some perforation along the edges. Jack gripped her fingers along the seam, a blue aura flaring about her as she gathered some biotic strength to yank it open. “Don't leave a mark,” Zaeed said warningly, and she neatly popped it open.

 

“It's empty.” She had a confused frown on her face. He looked inside and indeed saw it was an empty crate. With crude sheet metal benches stapled along the inner walls.

 

“It's a goddamn troop transport.”

 

Jack's eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “So...quite a party on Omega.”

 

“Looks like.” He didn't like how this was starting to shape out, a sixth sense tingling a warning at the back of his skull. “Enough for a small unit.”

 

Jack had a hand on her hip, the other one tapping her shotgun against the side of her leg as she thought. “I'd say enough geth to wreck your weekend, but they don't need to sit.”

 

“And there aren't any goddamn geth anymore.”

 

Jack smirked. “Not the unfriendly kind anyway.” Some geth had been rebuilt by the quarians, but their numbers weren't significant enough yet and almost the entirety of them were busy rebuilding Rannoch. Another miracle Shepard had managed to pull off. The ends of her mouth tugged downward slightly at the reminiscence.

 

“Let's get out of here.”

 

“Spooked?” She just couldn't fucking help herself sometimes, could she?

 

“Cautious. And alive.”

 

When they made it back to the main office Tyrus looked like he was having too much fun and Zaeed called him off before he had the turian broker soiling himself. Not that they'd be the ones to clean up the mess, but there were still some smells you couldn't get out of your clothing. When Tyrus asked what they had found once the warehouse was out of earshot all Zaeed could say for the moment was “arma-fucking-geddon”.

 

His hackles were up and that same prickling along the back of his scalp when he knew he was about to walk into something fabulously stupid or dangerous. The only small unit he could think of that would be effective enough that you would only need the one were asari commandos. So if Aria T'Loak was going to the trouble of hiding this unit's movements, and also keeping the Eclipse out of it (because it damn sure didn't look as if she were smuggling those bitches around, they had their own means of transport), then there was something big going on he didn't know about. And things you didn't know about got you goddamn killed.

 

“Instructor?”

 

They barely heard the woman's voice, all wrapped up in their own thoughts. It was only until there was a pounding of footsteps and another plaintive, “Instructor!” that got the group to turn around to see an older human woman rushing up to them. They looked at each other in confusion until she stopped right in front of Jack, looking as if she were holding back tears.

 

“You are...you were the instructor at Grissom Academy, weren't you?”

 

Jack froze and stark fear crowded her face. The older woman didn't seem to notice though, breaking into a pained smile. “You taught the biotic students. My son – Paul – he was in your group wasn't he? He was so proud there...he...you've come for the memorial, haven't you?”

 

She was reaching out with both hands open, as if to receive some sort of blessing, her fingers inching towards Jack's. Jack was still staring at her with a dumbfounded expression on her face, and finally the older woman seemed to realize her attentions weren't welcome. She hesitated, looking down and seeing the shotgun at Jack's side.

 

“He had so many stories when he wrote home...he...he fought bravely, didn't he?” She was still looking hopeful, though the tears were threatening to fall from her face at any moment. “Maybe you could say something...at the memorial...”

 

There was a pained, intensely awkward silence as Jack continued to stare shell-shocked at the woman, who was now holding back in sobs. Tyrus was openly gaping at the scene and Zaeed had to stomp on the turian's foot hard to get him to glue his jaw back together.

 

Jack took a step back, her shotgun clattering out of her nerveless, numb hands. Without her seeming to realize, the blue pulse of energy snapped around her and without a second's warning she had suddenly turned heel and ran. A blue streak of energy darting away from them, desperate and terrified of the grieving it was leaving behind.

 

***

 

The sun was setting on Illium. She had seen it set a few times on Earth, how it was a blaze of oranges and dark purples and blues. Somehow that didn't feel like home, not remembering where she'd been born, only the inside of the cell and from there...whatever dark corners of space she could hide in. The alien horizon of Illium with its pinks and greens and yellows seemed more like home to her...but the Earth sunset had still been beautiful. Even if it had had the silhouette of a big fucking Reaper cast against it.

 

She didn't remember how she got up here, danging her legs over the side of the abandoned Dantius tower, arms and head resting against a rickety metal rail. She was pretty sure she didn't take the elevator, maybe she had biotic jumped up the entire way. Wish someone could have taken a vid of that...she would have been the biggest biotic badass on the extranet.

 

She winced. Even alone in her head she made stupid deflective jokes. Her thoughts were still numb from the encounter at the factory district, and she was fine with being unable to start that line of thought. All she could say really was that it sucked.

 

She wasn't sure how long she'd been up here, just watching traffic and the tiny dots of other people in far away buildings. Her ass was starting to hurt from sitting on the cold cement, but she didn't care. Up here, it was like she could finally breathe.

 

She heard footsteps crunch on stray pieces of broken glass behind her, and from it's heavy set she knew it wasn't some security mook to chase her away. She didn't even bother to look behind her, still staring out across the skyline as a familiar silhouette rested its arms against the rail and stood beside her. She continued to watch the traffic, her eyes lazily following the patterns of the herd of skycars, in silence.

 

She heard a muffled _clink_ and a bottle appeared beside her. Then the gruff, “I don't do hugs, you'll have to ask the turian for that.”

 

She didn't touch it. “Come to collect me and lecture me about dropping a gun on the floor? I'd love to hear right now about all the shit I don't get right.”

 

He didn't rise to the bait, she didn't expect him to. There was no real heart in it. Instead he just grunted that if she wasn't going to drink he'd finish the bottle off for her. Absently, she unscrewed the top and took a swig. It was better than she expected.

 

There was another long moment of silence before, “I didn't know they had a memorial on Illium. I thought at the Citadel...Alliance...”

 

Zaeed shrugged, staring out across the sky as if he was just as interested in traffic watching as she was. “That school was sponsored by the big biotic amp manufacturer here, wasn't it? Probably from them.”

 

She sighed heavily and in a strange voice said, “You always make me feel stupid. Fuck you.”

 

He wasn't sure what exactly that all meant, but he wasn't going to touch it with a ten foot pole. Weepy women weren't his forte. Women going through something genuinely horrific was completely out of his league and field of interest.

 

“How did you know I was up here?”

 

“It's not too difficult following a trail of biotic destruction, sweetheart.”

 

She snorted, sipping at the bottle. “What took you so long then?”

 

“Figured you'd want a moment to yourself.”

 

She sighed again, a shaky exhalation that spoke of a bone-deep weariness. “I don't like talking about shit.”

 

“Good. Neither do I.” He held out a hand to her. “Time to get back on the ship.”

 

She let him help her to her feet, passing him back the bottle. She didn't feel like getting pissed, the few mouthfuls she had were already buzzing through her skull. She wanted to hit somebody, or go to sleep and wait until tomorrow arrived. Sleep was probably the more responsible option.

 

He had hacked the service elevator and they took the slow way down. She could have thrown herself off the tower with a biotic descent, but even if the thrill of plummeting a dozen storeys would have cooled some of the drumming in her head, it just felt like too much effort. And exactly what Jack did not feel like giving right now was a single fuck.

 

“You always have to come chasing after me, the 'psychotic troublemaker', and 'time waster' and whatever other shit.” Her voice was dripping with a kind of weary sarcasm as she waved her hands dismissively in the air. “You could always do the smart thing and leave my ass at the dock.”

 

“Couldn't do that, sweetheart.” 

 

She looked up in surprise, the insult or backbiting comment she was expecting hadn't come. He looked a little exasperated at the obvious 'why?' naked on her face and said, “You're part of my crew” as if that simply explained everything.

 

She looked mutinous, still mistrusting, and scuffed the toe of her boot along the ground. “That doesn't tend to mean shit.”

 

“It does on my goddamn ship,” he growled in a tone that signalled the matter firmly closed. Part of her prickled in response, as being given orders always rubbed her the wrong way, but another part of her felt slightly grateful to the grumpy old bastard.

 

She reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders, her lips grazing under his chin. He stiffened, refusing to tilt his head down, and placed a hand on her chest to gently push her back, though her hands gripped him insistently. “You're upset, you don't really want-”

 

“I'm not stupid,” it came out as a harsh whisper that was more of a self-condemnation, “I know my damage.”

 

She pressed her face upwards again and he relented, moving a hand to cradle the back of her head, a curious thumb swiping along the tattoo on her scalp and meeting her mouth with his. She was gentle and searching at first, but whatever crap was threatening to break inside of her at the moment meant the kiss soon devolved into something harsh and messy and violent. He could feel her tremble with frustration and whatever else ate her up at night under his hands, as her teeth clicked against his, as she was silently screaming to be swallowed up and eaten whole. To escape. To let it end. Or to let her eat up and destroy whatever lay in her path so she could be left alone.

 

He was sorry to say it wasn't the first time he'd tasted that in a kiss.

 

She finally broke away, almost wrenching herself out of the embrace when the elevator doors opened, and strode away with brisk steps, forcing him to match her unrelenting pace. They didn't speak a word to each other the entire way back to the Nihlus, and once she was on board the ship she ignored the rest of the worried crew and fled to the lower deck.

 

He heard her pacing the entire night.

 

***

 

When Jack awoke it was to a blissfully quiet ship. Most everyone had been bunking somewhere on Illium, happy for a change of scenery and some better food, and she was glad they were gone because she wasn't sure if she could look anyone in the face yet. She had woken up from another nightmare, jerking awake in a chair with drying tears on her face. And then punching another dent into the wall for being a high-strung idiot.

 

Moodily, she threw something together in the mess hall and sat heavily down at the table, mechanically shovelling it into her mouth. When she looked up it was to see the batarian smuggler watching her from his cell. She eyed him back, tearing off a piece of meat with her teeth, her fingers absently ripping apart the rest into little shreds. The smuggler finally looked away as she began licking the grease off her fingers. Smug piece of shit.

 

“The way you eat is really disgusting, you know?” 

 

Tyrus threw away the comment as casually as if he had remarked upon the weather, draining a bottle of water before dropping it into the trash chute. Jack shrugged, popping the remainders of her breakfast into her mouth.

 

“We got some supplies to pick up. Want some fresh air?”

 

She shrugged again, but got to her feet, wiping her hands on the back of her pants and followed him out.

 

Thankfully Tyrus kept the conversation to a minimum and kept her busy moving boxes, and carrying other heavy shit. He even let her drive the dolly back to the docking bay and they started up a game of how much credits worth of damage they could cause with the rickety vehicle. All in all her mood had improved enough that she could at least shove most of the crap down and put on a semblance of friendliness while they swapped dirty jokes over a lunch beer.

 

When they got back to the Nihlus they started up a card game, drinking more heavily until the rest of the crew showed up and extra hands were dealt. No one noticed the smuggler, huddled up in his cell, watching them all carefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have been wondering - finally, some mention of Grissom Academy!
> 
> Thanks to my readers who've been following this, Mordinette who's been commenting on AO3, and to my lone reviewer Jazzpha who's kind of become the unofficial beta for this. Remember to check out Jazzpha's fic "Black Sun Rising" (at ff.net) if you want some more Zaeed, Wrex and some badass merc fic. We are making this a thing :D


	5. Chapter 5

Jack was pacing around in the lower cargo hold when she heard the doors hiss open and an impatient bang on the wall. Zaeed was in the middle of buckling his armour on, and from what she could hear beyond the door, other members of the crew were making preparations as well.

"Grab your gear."

Jack glanced at the clock bolted to the wall. "It's not even morning yet."

He gave her a look that could be translated into a sharp 'are you questioning my orders?' and finally barked, "You want some violence, sweetheart? 'Cause I can leave you watching the goddamn ship."

"I'm coming." Jack didn't need to be told twice, strapping her pistol's thigh holster around her leg and grabbing her shotgun. As she followed Zaeed out of the cargo hold she saw Tyrus and a few of the other men joining them, all with their armour on. They trooped towards the air lock with grim determination on their faces.

"That shipment is scheduled to move off station in three hours. We're going to find out what was meant to go in those crates, and maybe even give Aria T'Loak something to goddamn choke on."

"Love it when you talk dirty." An aura of biotics erupted around her as her excitement began to build. A fight, a real dirty, bleeding knuckles, fucking fight. Zaeed shot her a warning look and she killed the biotic aura around her, but she knew he couldn't tell her off right now. This was exactly why she ran with the crew of the Nihlus. They were the precision veterans, and she was the fuck-you bomb.

They piled into the shuttle, avoiding the major lanes of traffic and flew quietly into the factory district. The shuttle was parked on the rooftop of a building where they could see the shipping warehouse, and also the transport lanes large shipments went through. One of the men, what the fuck was his name, Liam? Lyman? - Jack couldn't remember, began setting up a sniper rifle.

"Go scout ahead." Zaeed jerked his head to the ground below. He and the rest of the ground crew were making their way down a flight of outdoor service stairs that winded down the building. Jack pushed off the ledge of the roof, landing gracefully and silently below with the help of a biotic field. She ducked behind some cover, her eyes raking over the empty space, picking out other cover points, entrances, exits...

A few minutes later and Zaeed and the rest of his men were behind her. He motioned for two of them to break off and form a right flank so they could have a pincer around the thoroughfare.

"Go with them," Jack hissed, "you don't need to babysit me."

"And you don't give the goddamn orders-"

Jack motioned impatiently to the side exit of the warehouse. "They'll try and sneak out that way if they're smart, so you'll need a bigger ambush team on the flank if you want to take any of the fuckers alive." She then waved a hand to the main entrance. "Any vehicles or heavy ordinance will come out of there. That's where you want  _me_."

"Picked up some tactics off Shepard, did you?" He was snarling, but she knew it was because she was right. He shot her one more dirty look and a low, "don't pull any stupid stunts", before breaking off.

Jack had Tyrus with her, who was checking radio contact with each of the strike teams, and she settled in for the wait. She didn't mind this kind of waiting, nervous energy humming through her and a grin creeping up on her face. This was just when the hunt was beginning.

She could see a couple silhouettes of graveyard shift workers around the factory district, the low hum of machinery, but all else was quiet. Tyrus was muttering over his in-helmet radio that things were clear.

Jack was just thinking about what it would be like to take on a unit of asari commandos, if that's what the secret cargo really was, when lights suddenly flooded the entire space, blinding her momentarily. She felt a gust of air whip across her face and heard a metallic whine.

Tyrus' radio chirped and she could almost hear Zaeed's jaw drop over the comm line as his hoarse whisper crackled beside her. "Is that...a goddamn gunship?"

The shrieking metallic whine was soon joined by an unholy barrage of gunfire and Jack had thrown up a kinetic barrier on instinct, an arm up to shield her eyes from the blinding light. She saw the hissing chunks of concrete that had been her and Tyrus' cover and realized her split second reflex had just saved their asses from ventilation. And they weren't going to last much longer sitting there.

There was a pause in the volley of fire and Jack hauled Tyrus to his feet.

"Try to relax!"

"What!"

She had no further time to explain, instead motioning with her arm as she lifted the surprised turian off his feet and catapulted him towards the building where their shuttle was parked. She heard his alarmed yelp and winced inwardly when his armour  _clanked_  painfully against the metal service stairs, but he had good reflexes and clung onto the railing. She knew he'd be able to climb his way up to the shuttle then and ran for the warehouse.

The gunship's blaring lights followed her trail, and her heart hammered in her chest, a volley of " _fuck, fuck, fuck_ " bursting out from under her breath as she heard the whine of the ship's rail guns start up again. A thrill of exhilaration and fear spiked through her, this time of being the hunted.

She sent a shockwave blast of energy towards the ship just in time to cut a hole through the volley of gunfire, knocking some bullets out of the way as she punched the door to the warehouse open with a biotic blast and slid inside. Zaeed and the other two men were racing through the warehouse, smart enough to duck inside for some cover from the gunship and try to cut a path across on the inside. Jack saw the flimsy sheet metal door of the warehouse garage and knew it wouldn't last under the barrage of a gunship for long. They were short on time.

There were large metal shipping crates in the way and Jack blasted them to one side, roaring with the effort it took. The other strike team saw the path she had cleared and thundered down it. As long as that fucking gunship didn't have an on-board cannon...maybe it wasn't big enough...

There was a swell of onrushing light and then the garage door exploded towards them, metal shrieking as it burned and sheared into obscene chunks of shrapnel. Zaeed felt a cold twist in his gut as he prepared to be knocked right off his feet, but the wave of oppressive heat and pressure washed over him. Breath caught in his throat, he saw Jack's arms spread out wide, her hands holding up a blue barrier that had  _just_  saved them from the worst of the blast. One of the structural beams of the warehouse collided straight towards them, and her whole body shuddered along with the ground as it fell against her barrier.

There was a manic expression on her face, firelight from the burning building around them dancing in her eyes. "Fucking  _move_! I can't hold this forever-"

His men needed no further encouragement, pelting towards the shuttle, which was finally off the ground and had fired a few shots towards the gunship to try and draw its attention away. A vein was pulsing in her temple and finally, the barrier snapped free, Jack collapsing with the exertion and the beam fell on top of her.

" _Got you_." Zaeed rammed his left shoulder into the beam, managing to knock it off course so that it didn't crush her, though he heard a sickening 'crunch' as it bounced off her leg and the gasped curse that left her lips. He swung her arm over his shoulders and hauled them out of the wreckage.

The roar of engines and gunfire was deafening, but he could still hear her gasping something along the lines of "kill every last fucker" as they hobbled over to the shuttle. She cried out, another string of curses spitting out of her mouth as Tyrus grabbed her arms and lifted her into the shuttle. Her right leg was completely limp, the pants leg soaked through with blood, and Zaeed could tell instantly it was broken.

His pilot seemed just as jacked up on adrenaline too as he was roaring, "Eat this you motherfuckers!", firing the shuttle's guns at the opposing ship before tearing off into the coming morning. They all hunkered down as they heard the ominous  _ping's_  of some volley rounds finding their way home, the shuttle lurching as his pilot took evasive manoeuvres, but thankfully none penetrated the hull.

They held onto the rails bolted into the sides for just this occasion as the shuttle tore through the sky. Zaeed's good eye was blazing with a coiled rage, flashing dangerously amidst the chaos.

"Someone goddamn sold us out."

***

Zaeed, being an old merc and someone used to bending the rules, was usually too wise and too fucking smart to let himself get tired out by drama or minor annoyances. He let the younger idiots squabble and pick fights or get pissed off about something fucking stupid, because he'd seen and done it all a hundred times before. Anyone on the Nihlus crew who hadn't gone through the same shit he had would have taken him for laid back.

So it came as a nasty surprise to some when Zaeed Massani, in all rights a mercenary warlord and one of the most dangerous killers in the galaxy still for hire, thundered onto his ship seriously fucking pissed for real. There were no dramatics, there was never time for stupidity like that, but a cold black rage blazing in his good eye and dripping acid in his clipped accent that meant someone was going to get their neck snapped. Laid back and lenient were two very different goddamn things.

He lined them all up in the mess hall that served as the unofficial command centre, and told them to strip off their omni-tools and lay them out on the table in a tone that brooked no refusal or complaint. He checked Tyrus' first, because the turian was the least likely culprit, and when satisfied told him to fetch a doctor because Jack was bleeding out all over his goddamn ship. Tyrus didn't offer up a single comment, patient and stoic, because he was another experienced mercenary that had been through the chaos of betrayed loyalties within a squad before.

The minutes that ticked away as Zaeed methodically checked every tool in a damning silence were agonizing and tense. When one newer recruit opened his mouth Zaeed pointed a pistol to his head before he could even begin to breathe the first word of a complaint.

"Give me a reason." The pistol gave a whine and ominous  _click_  as the thermal clip engaged in the chamber. No one attempted to speak after that. When his examinations were done he holstered his pistol and looked each one of them in the face. Sherri looked like she was going to faint.

"They knew we were coming tonight. They knew exactly what we were doing and got the slip on us. If any one of you had a hand in the colossal fuck-up that just happened I will end your life."

The threat, though simple, rang with the authority of a promise meant to be kept. He then looked at Jack, slumped over on the floor, her face pale. "Get up on the table then. You never broke a leg before?"

One brave crew member stuck around to help Zaeed lift Jack onto the table, the others fleeing back to their posts after the chilling dismissal. Tyrus showed up soon after with a harassed looking doctor who was still rubbing sleep grit out of his eyes. The salarian immediately perked up though when he saw Jack, who was still just mumbling an assortment of "fuck" and "shit" under her breath, and rushed over, opening his bag of equipment. Doctors were a breed all on their own, they couldn't remain inactive with a patient needing their care.

"You've applied medi-gel?"

"More than we probably should have. This one's a real whiner."

Jack flipped him a rude hand gesture, but couldn't do much else. She must have been in a lot of pain if she couldn't even cuss him out properly. He didn't blame her, she'd had to wait on seeing any medical attention and the adrenaline rush holding the pain at bay probably petered off long ago.

They were a generally twitchy race, but after having run around with Mordin Solus, craziest amphibious fuck of them all, Zaeed had developed a bias for salarian doctors. This one seemed to have no scruples of coming onto a merc ship and patching up a patient off the record, so he wasn't complaining. He grasped Jack's lower calf as the doctor gripped just under her knee and set the bone back in place with a nasty sound. She positively bellowed her displeasure at that and he had " _fuck!"_ ringing in his ears for a few seconds afterwards.

"You cannot put any pressure on this for the next five days." The salarian glared at her sternly as if he already knew Jack was a horrible patient who wouldn't follow his orders. He placed a carton of a specific medi-gel that had bone-specific regenerative properties on the table. "Apply twice daily." He was then taping some splints to her leg and passing his omni-tool over the site of the break again. It was the best they could do without going to a hospital, and even if she was complaining now, Jack had gotten off incredibly lucky.

The salarian was now packing up his kit with the same frenzied, yet ordered efficiency as when he had arrived. "And eat something." He gave her a friendly pat on the foot, took the credit chit from Tyrus, and strolled right off the ship. Jack looked down at her leg and then let her head thump back on the table, weary.

"I'm never saving any of your asses again."

"Quit your bitching, you're a real merc now. Now sit up like a big girl." Zaeed went over to the mess counter, pulling out a glass, a ration pack and prepared something that looked disgustingly like some flesh-coloured sludge. Jack struggled upwards on her elbows and grimaced when he passed her the beverage.

"Making faces at it won't make it taste any better."

"It looks like puke."

He plunked it down irritably on the table beside her. "It's a full day's supplement, you'll need to get your strength back. So plug your nose and drink it, smartass."

Still pulling a face, Jack quickly gulped down the contents with a shudder. It did taste revolting. Satisfied, Zaeed then helped her off the table, slinging her arm around his shoulders again and helped her hobble down to her bunk in the lower cargo hold. She eased onto her makeshift couch with a groan, but some colour seemed to be returning to her face.

He perched on her table, unbuckling the plates of his armour and placing them aside. He rubbed at his sore ribs, fishing around in his pocket for a cigarette. There was still a black rage hovering over his face.

"So..." Jack shifted an arm underneath her head, "...shit got a little tense up there."

He merely grunted in response, taking a long drag off his smoke.

"I didn't say you could smoke in my room."

"It's my ship."

Jack wrinkled her nose, but then let out a sigh. "Well then light one up for me."

"What's the magic word?"

"Go fuck yourself."

The chuckle rumbled deep in his chest as he pulled out another cigarette, briefly held it between his lips as he lit it and then passed it to her. She shifted again so she could sit up a little straighter, dragging on the cigarette and smoke unfurling out of her nose in two neat streams.

They smoked in silence for a few moments, Zaeed staring off somewhere as he collected his thoughts. Jack left him alone for once. It had been a shit day for everyone all around.

Finally, he said, "There were no markings on that gunship. But it was a piece of shit old model I haven't seen any self-respecting organization use in a few years."

"So," Jack idly tapped some ash off her cigarette onto the floor, "someone didn't want to be identified."

"Yeah...but there's always a tip-off. Not too many people have clunky pieces of shit like that out for rent. Not many people have the kind of creds to borrow one for a quick operation either."

He lapsed back into a brooding silence, one finger running up and down the scar on the right side of his face. Jack eased back, closing her eyes and feeling every bruise, scrape and burn as her body finally started to relax from the hard knot it had tensed up into. It was a good kind of ache.

"You did good today."

She glanced over, and he was still staring off into space somewhere. Her lips twisted somewhere between a grimace and a grin. "Yeah, well I'm not going to make a habit of it."

She crushed the butt of her cigarette against the wall and let it drop to the floor. "You're really touchy about double-crosses, aren't you, old man?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

She just murmured a ' _mmm_ ' in agreement, settling back down into a more comfortable position and closing her eyes. Zaeed's gaze raked over her in curiosity. "So what happened with you and the Alliance?"

She didn't open her eyes, but her breathing stilled for a moment. He was sure if her eyes were open he'd see the same burning for revenge he'd felt for twenty years reflected back at him. Her voice was cool and casual, but he could hear the underbelly of a choked hatred.

"I want them all dead."

He just murmured ' _mmm_ ' back in agreement and lapsed back into silence again. There was a common ground any killer had with one another. That they all had a story, and that they knew when not to pry.

***

There was a knock and for once Jack was surprised. No one ever knocked on board the Nihlus. The door to the cargo hold hissed open before she had a chance to answer, which was more like it, and Tyrus walked in with a plate heaped with food. She tossed aside her datapad, sitting up with excitement, her nose twitching with anticipation. She had slept for the better part of a day and was starving.

"I didn't interrupt you in the middle of some high quality porn, did I?" Tyrus was already chuckling at his own joke, dumping the tray in front of her and pulling up a seat.

"True Asari Confessions 5: The Matriarch's Den."

Tyrus shrugged, picking up a dextro skewer off the tray he'd brought for himself. "Not into the dungeon stuff myself. Naughty nurses though," he clicked his tongue appreciatively. "How's the leg?"

"Hurts like a bitch." Jack spoke around a mouthful of food, already cramming more into her mouth. "And it really fucking itches."

"Fractured my left leg in three different places once. Only doctor around was a human...the splint he tried to make up looked like a five year old's arts and crafts disaster. I once showed Langdon the scars and ruined his lunch."

Tyrus gave her an exasperated look at her blank confusion. "Langdon. Our resident sniper."

So that was his name. Jack just shrugged again and Tyrus waggled a clawed finger at her. "He'll be so hurt you don't remember. Was making a Valentine's card for you and everything."

Jack snorted with laughter, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Tyrus gave her another one of his 'the way you eat is disgusting' looks and nibbled on the end of his skewer. "I'll give you ten credits for every crew member you can name."

Jack swallowed with effort and put on an exaggerated expression of concentration. "Sherr. Grumpy old fuckface. Grumpy old scale-face." She gave Tyrus a significant look. "Sniper boy. Thug One and Thug Two. And cannon fodder." She added as an afterthought. "Oh, and Anvil Chin who pilots the shuttle."

He looked like he didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused. She gave him a cheeky grin. "Did I earn enough credits to buy a beer?"

"If we're talking the cheap piss you like to drink? And no, doctor's orders."

"You're no fun."

He kicked back, setting his feet up on the table. "Payback for biotic tossing my ass into the air. My pride is still so hurt."

Jack sniggered, finally reaching for the disappointingly non-alcoholic drink on her tray to wash down her lunch. He reminded her of Garrus sometimes, and she wondered if a dry delivery was just natural to all Turians. "How long are we staying docked?"

"For a while now. It's not actually good tactics to run blind into a situation you know you're going to be fucked over at every turn."

She blinked innocent eyes at him. "But it's not as fun."

He threw back a good imitation of one of her patented shrugs. "I guess not."

Jack leaned back, her stomach satisfied, and pushed the tray away from her. "So, did you pick the short straw for nanny duty?"

"No." She was surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "I've got your back."

"Why?" She asked out loud before she could help it. Tyrus gave her another uncanny shrug and simply said, "You're one of the crew."

Her lips twisted slightly at the familiar words. "So I keep hearing."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action! Explosions! Intrigue!
> 
> Thanks to my readers and the people who have reviewed - N7HG, oh anonymous one, Jazzpha and Mordinette at AO3. Even small comments make my day and make it even more fun to keep plugging away at this, so don't be shy :D Hope you've been enjoying.
> 
> And remember, because yo ho yo ho a merc's life for me, if you've been enjoying the mercenary squad adventure aspects of my story, go check out Jazzpha's Black Sun Rising. (even if they don't have Tyrus on their crew, for shame ;)


	6. Chapter 6

"Hmm, it does sound like you had an interesting night..."

Zaeed rubbed a finger along his scar, ignoring the prickle between his shoulder blades. He found it distinctly uncomfortable to speak to someone he couldn't see – it always made him feel like he was about to get slipped a knife in the back.

"But I'm retired, you know that."

"I wasn't planning on paying you, Kasumi."

There was a shimmer in the air as she finally disabled the tactical cloak, strolling along on what seemed like an aimless path down the street. Having worked with the elegant thief before, he knew it wasn't a random course, but carefully plotted to avoid every surveillance feed on Illium. Even though the Shadow Broker of all people didn't have a record of her face, she still kept her hood up.

He understood that. Good sense and good instincts were far too rare in the galaxy.

"You're still partial to the old noble, suicide mission, aren't you?"

"Ah, Shep," her eyes twinkled briefly under her dark hood. "I didn't peg you for someone who'd pick up on his line of work, Zaeed."

"I haven't." He scratched irritably at his scar. "But stupid and reckless, sure. Got enough of that shit coming out of both ears to strangle a dead varren. Thought you might like a challenge to shake up the tedium of retirement."

Her tone was light and airy. "You always had a way with words. And I don't know who came after you in that gunship."

He heard the pause and cast his good eye over at her. There was a smirk on her lips and a confident spring in her step. "But I know who it used to belong to."

"Atta, girl."

"Finding out more involves a fancy party. I'm  _really_  good at those."

Zaeed scowled. "I don't do fancy parties."

"You won't be going," she snapped. "Not even a well-tailored suit could fix that problem."

***

"She's not as big as the Normandy. A lot noisier too. Do you remember that quiet hum the Normandy had at night? I remember chatting with EDI every now and again. She had quite a sense of humour, even back then."

Zaeed rubbed his scar a little self-consciously, he'd been doing that too often lately, as most of his crew gaped at the little slip of the thief already padding around the Nihlus, She seemed wholly uninterested in their attention as she ran her omni-tool along the power lines of the ship, babbling about some old memory of the good old days she had as if the only person listening to her was Zaeed.

When she bent over to examine a service hatch he had to give a gruff, "Be a gentleman, Langdon" and motioned for the young buck to keep his gaze at eye-level.

"I heard Jacob's married now. Shame. Still, his wife seems very intelligent, I worked with her on the Crucible..."

"Yeah. Right." Zaeed rubbed a hand along the back of his head, unsure of how to really keep up. It was the only thing that really flummoxed him about the master thief. Most times it seemed like she had her head stuck up in the clouds, always lost to some kind of cheerful nostalgia. She was a goddamn weirdo, honestly, spent too much time alone with old memories.

"I heard Jack is with your team now. That was a decent thing, Zaeed, she shouldn't be left alone. Feeds too much on her own problems..."

Then of course, after minutes of woolgathering she hit you with one of her uncanny and slightly uncomfortable laser-vision observations. He wondered if there wasn't anything she  _didn't_ pick up on.

"I heard my name." There was a muffled groan of pain as Jack made it up the last stair to the mess hall, cursing at her splinted leg.

Kasumi graced her with one of her serene little smiles. "Jack. Like the haircut."

"Holy shit."

"You're another one with a way with words. And collecting injuries."

Jack gave her a brief one-armed hug before sitting down heavily in a chair, rubbing the ache in her thigh. "What are you doing here?"

Kasumi moved beside her to the table, punching in a command on her omni-tool. "Helping you do something stupid."

A holograph of a building's layout emerged from her omni-tool and the crew gathered around the mess table. With a few casual taps certain sections of the three-dimensional blueprints lit up. A swipe of her fingers and all of the building's circuitry and power breakers were revealed.

"Elias Kelham's manor - another old face." She looked up and saw the blank expressions on Zaeed and Jack's faces. "Ah, of course, you weren't on that operation. That was Thane. He had such pleasant manners."

She continued on, tapping more mysterious commands into her omni-tool. "Did very well for himself after the Reaper war with salvaging old arms, machinery and tech. A lot of decommissioned Alliance surplus went...missing." She gave another mysterious smile. "He took the rest."

Jack sniggered quietly in appreciation. Zaeed just raised his eyebrow half an inch. Ballsy way to secure a retirement pension. Then again, he always knew that behind her slightly whimsical demeanour the thief had a streak of recklessness. The more complicated the heist, the better for her.

"Disappeared from the Citadel, too much heat with Commander Bailey still in charge, and when a station gets half-blown up, well, you move your assets elsewhere during renovations."

"So the bastard's here, is he?" Zaeed grunted.

"And in a few other outposts far enough away from prying eyes. But he's got a flamboyant streak and built himself a nice, flashy little house here." She gave an amused tilt of her head. "And is stupid enough to do a lot of his personal dealings from home. On a system with all of the most expensive firewalls."

Jack frowned slightly. "Will it be hard to hack into then?"

Kasumi remained serene. "I said expensive, not effective. But I will need ten minutes uninterrupted with his computer, and _I_  don't run distraction."

She looked at the entire crew carefully, though her eyes were hidden behind her hood. Her stillness, however, seemed to radiate her disapproval. "Mercenaries," she said with a frustrated sigh, "you're all so obsessed with collecting permanent scars, tattoos or stapling bits of metal into your body."

Her head turned to Sherri, who just had to come down from the cockpit to see the mysterious thief who had once worked with the great Commander Shepard, and paused for a moment. Then she shook her head. "I might have been able to throw you in a pretty dress, maybe a new haircut, but I can already tell you're clumsy and can't keep a straight face."

Sherri's mouth fell open about to protest, but then closed shut. She couldn't argue something that was true. Jack blurted out in a small voice, "I can look cute in a dress," and then lowered her eyes self-consciously as Tyrus roared with laughter.

"Remember what I said about identifying marks? Also, you just aren't subtle, Jack."

"That's the understatement of the goddamn year."

"Neither are you, Zaeed." Kasumi's eyes fluttered over each of them and finally landed on Tyrus. "You might work as a personal bodyguard. Most humans can't tell one Turian from another."

Jack smirked at him. "And you thought you were so pretty."

"I get a lot of compliments on my fringe."

Zaeed fished a cigarette out of a battered pack, easing a crick out of his neck. "Do we need to hire some goddamn prostitute to flash her tits at Kelham then? I don't like outsourcing."

Kasumi turned her shadowed gaze to Zaeed as he lit the smoke and simply said, "Smoking is a disgusting habit, you know. The smell never truly leaves your clothes."

She sighed, tapping a knuckle to the purple line drawn on her lower lip, considering the problem. She walked around the table, crew members backing out of her way as she ignored them, considering the blueprints from every angle. Zaeed continued to smoke, not knowing if he should interrupt her and gave Jack a shrug when she looked at him askance.

"It's not my preferred way of solving a problem..." Kasumi muttered, "... _but_  you do say you like to do stupid things." She snapped her head up. "Bombast, then. You and your painted war thugs will just have to knock down the front door, crash Kelham's party and hold everyone hostage and pretend you're there to collect a bounty."

It was certainly not the solution he had been expecting. After a pregnant pause, Jack suddenly murmured, "I fucking love you, Kasumi."

***

"...she didn't seem to like that. And I already had my pants down, so to speak, so I said to her, 'Well, if you don't want to earn the credits, baby, I'm sure the volus taping us in the corner would'."

There was a rowdy peal of laughter as Tyrus flung his empty bottle over his shoulder and took a bow as it shattered on the floor. Sherri was staring at him aghast, but also with a bit of a pink flush blooming across her cheeks, and curtly asked him just who he thought was going to clean up that mess.

He slung an arm, clumsy with inebriation, over her shoulder and slurred, "Relax, pilot." He then waved an arm in Zaeed's direction. "Come on, Massani, I know you've got some good ones stowed away. What was the name of that one asari girl? You know – the dancer from Flux."

The shuttle pilot, Anvil Chin as Jack thought him, snorted into his mug of vodka. "Got blue fever?"

Tyrus cut in, "No, just gets what he can afford."

There was another round of drunken laughter, smashed bottles and fists pounding on the table as Tyrus ended up in a good-natured headlock.

"Ah, the rough and tumble of the galaxy." Kasumi delicately raised a glass of asari wine to her lips. "The only way they know how to have fun is break things, make a lot of noise and figuratively wave their penises around in the air."

Jack tried to hide an unladylike snort, but failed. She had a leg propped up on an extra chair as she leaned back onto the couch with Kasumi, who had been teaching her the finer points of asari vintages. She would usually be right in the thick of things, but her leg was still healing and she decided even she could be nice every once in a while. The thief didn't know anyone else on board and was out of place.

"...she bored me to tears that one, had about as much between her ears as a goddamn vorcha."

"What was the point then?"

"I wasn't interested in her  _personality_  – keep up, pilot."

Kasumi swirled the wine around in her glass, motioning for Jack to repeat her movements. The bright blue liquid darkened until it had reached the hue of twilight, and then Kasumi took the daintiest of sips. Jack just threw it all back down her throat and motioned for more. Kasumi just shook her head, but didn't stop Jack from reaching for the bottle again.

"...still got my own, though. Had her between my legs as she was trying to pull that bullshit move dancers do - you know the one, Tyrus – where they lean in closer so you think you're about to get a feel and after you tip them they bloody saunter off...and then I fucking pinned her to the table and threatened to choke her out."

Langdon, this time, who had been hanging on to every word, spluttered, "What the hell for?"

"'Cause she was trying to pull a sneaky biotic lift on my credit chit and fucking pickpocket me, that's what. Moved fast too, slinky bitch, got me right on the nose and it goddamn broke a second time. Gave her a mean right hook for that, and she slid right off the table and into a shitfaced batarian's lap. He thought he'd won the fucking lottery."

Tyrus couldn't contain himself, wiping away a few stray tears of mirth and wheezing with laughter. Kasumi just frowned at them. "It isn't good manners to hit a woman, Massani."

Zaeed shrugged, knocking back another glass of scotch. "I let her make the first move. I'm always a goddamn gentleman."

"Strangely enough, I believe that," Kasumi muttered into her wineglass, but there was still a smirk on her lips. She then turned her penetrating gaze to Jack and said, "You still feel out of place here, don't you?"

The next swell of sound and of glass breaking gave Jack a moment to collect herself, utterly disarmed by Kasumi's throw-away comment. She wasn't sure how to answer, fidgeting under the attention. Finally, she just shrugged, and Kasumi seemed to think that was a perfectly acceptable response and then enquired after her leg.

They lapsed into silence soon after, drinking slowly as the other mercenaries rough laughter and bangs created a blanket of sound around them. Kasumi seemed perfectly at ease and like the silence was companionable to her. Jack was just thankful she didn't need to say anything, her thoughts drifting and skimming over places she didn't really want to delve into.

***

"Rodriguez.  _Rodriguez_."

The girl wasn't moving. Jack had seen plenty of dead bodies before, but for the first time she was looking down and instead of seeing a corpse, saw the endless possibilities of a life that had been snuffed out. A steel hand plummeted down her insides and twisted her gut around and she didn't even realize she was screaming at the broken body until she heard her own words ringing in her ears.

" _Get up_ , goddamnit! You don't sleep on the job when there's fucking Reapers in the air! How many times have I told you to watch your barriers-"

Her voice finally cracked as she realized she would never be able to reprimand her student ever again. She stopped, the words choking into a sour lump in her throat as she already knew that no amount of cajoling or pleading would make Rodriguez stand up again.

She cradled the girl's head in her arms as dry sobs hitched in her chest. Anger was flaring out of her every pore, but she couldn't even summon the will to stand up and fight. Every instinct that would normally have her tearing through the battlefield to unleash a hellstorm of vengeance on the massing Reaper troops...simply failed her.

She didn't know what to do.

***

"You look pale."

Jack looked up absently, dragged back into the swirl of chaos around her as she was knocked to one side of the shuttle by some turbulence. Kasumi was looking at her, and she muttered something unintelligible about not sleeping well.

"Responsibility suits you better than you think, Jack."

Jack had no idea how to respond to that. Kasumi's tone was always light, but Jack felt the thief meant more than just running bounties. Anyone else she would have flown across the room for prying into her life, but the thief never pried, that wasn't a thief's style, and somehow she got away with it.

"Think you can still fight with a bum leg, sweetheart?" Zaeed's grizzled mocking was a welcome intrusion and Jack let out a tense breath, blue light flaring up around her.

"Hell yeah."

***

It must have been a hellish whirlwind of panic and chaos for any of the party goers. Within a scant few minutes a bloated, self-aggrandizing speech by Kelham was interrupted by the front doors of his mansion being blown open, scattering guests, the thunder of boots and gunfire as a troop of armoured mercenaries burst in, and then Kelham was on his knees with a pistol pointed to his head. Security guards fell down dead, one tossed across the room and slammed into a wall and someone let out a cry of, "Fuck! It's Massani!"

Zaeed shoved the muzzle of his pistol harder against Kelham's head and lowly whispered to Tyrus, "Looks like I still got a goddam reputation."

A strike team was barrelling their way to the upper levels to take out the guards stationed there, all following on Kasumi's intel, while the main team on the ground level round up all the guests and kept order.

Zaeed let off a warning shot into the ceiling to get the rabble to shut up. "If you all pipe down and get down on the goddamn floor we can keep some blood off this asshole's carpet."

Kelham, smug little shit, was still unleashing a verbal tirade on him. "You don't know who you're fucking with – believe me, Massani, I will  _own_  your ass when this is all over!"

Zaeed kneed him swiftly in the gut, causing Kelham to double over, wheezing. "You think so?"

***

Her leg had lost some muscle tone, not enough to be visible, but enough that she noticed and was actually spending some time working out to get herself back into proper form. She had, of course, put up a fight to be allowed in the main strike team instead of as Kasumi's guard detail. But Zaeed had grasped her leg, calloused fingers probing where the break had been and he shook his head no. He had broken enough bones to know when they were ready to stand up to a proper beating again.

Thankfully, the thief had more things for Jack to do than just sit on her ass, directing her to certain parts of the wall that had wiring underneath that needed to be cut or overloaded. Jack felt enough satisfaction in blowing out parts of the wall and ripping the wires apart with her bare hands that she didn't complain.

Kasumi was busy by Kelham's computer, making fast work of breaking down his digital defences with her omni-tool.

"ETA?" Jack's radio crackled. She looked to Kasumi who answered, "Three minutes."

"Good, we can't keep this charade up much longer. Tyrus out."

"Oh, Elias, you are such a vulgar man," Kasumi tutted to herself as whatever dirty laundry he had flashed through on her omni-tool's readout. "Got it. Hmm..." Jack glanced over, something had surprised the thief, but Kasumi didn't say anymore, shutting down her omni-tool and jerking her head toward the window. "Time to go."

"We're out," Jack barked into her comm and then sent a blast of energy towards the window, the glass shattering outward.

She was about to offer Kasumi a lift, but the thief had already broke into a run and vaulted over the window ledge. Jack was impressed as she saw the thief's nimble form scaling the wall with relative ease and agility.

The rest of the team, and a pissed off Kelham holding a bleeding nose, were at the shuttle a minute later. Zaeed sent a warning volley of fire down below them as the shuttle took off before the door slid shut with a  _clang_.

"You fucking  _assholes_ ," Kelham spat, furious, wiping blood off his face with the sleeve of his now ruined suit. "Who paid you? I will have all of your heads on spikes-"

Jack gave them all a disgusted look, how the hell did they put up with this idiot's ranting, and sent Kelham sprawling to the floor of the shuttle with a well-aimed shove of her foot. To her disappointment, instead of shutting him up it just started him on another mouthy rant as he looked up at her.

"You hire out whores too now, Massani? What shithole did you crawl out of? Like running with the bad boys, you stupid bitch – how many times do they take you out for a quick fuck up the -"

Tyrus' eyes widened with surprise and then anger at the level of invective spewing out of Kelham's bloodied lips, and he gave Kelham a fast, sharp blow to the face. " _Watch your mouth._ "

Jack was nonplussed and felt a little awkward. The shit talk from Kelham didn't bother her, she had heard much worse from far more dangerous men and it was all static to her ears, but she hadn't expected Tyrus to react so violently. She wasn't used to someone getting offended on her behalf.

Kelham wasn't done. "She yours, turian? You get her to suck your scaly bird cock for-"

Tyrus hit him again, this time a solid punch to the jaw that he didn't pull back. They all heard something crunch in Kelham's face and he screamed with pain, knocked back to the floor again and unable to form anything coherent except for a few outraged " _fuck_ "s.

"Leave him," Zaeed's voice was a disinterested growl, "he's just mouthing off 'cause his ego's hurt."

Tyrus glared at Zaeed, the first time Jack had seen the turian pissed off at his fellow merc. "Do you hear the shit coming out of this one?" Tyrus demanded angrily.

Zaeed gave him one of his warning 'stand down' glares, his eyes narrowed. He crossed his arms across his chest, his face settling back into an almost bored disinterest again. "If it bothered her she'd have liquefied his guts by now."

Jack looked askance at Kasumi, or what she assumed was Kasumi, as the thief had her tactical cloak engaged. She felt a presence by her side though, so she was certain the thief was standing beside her. She didn't know what was more surprising: the turian she'd swapped a few friendly conversations with now looking as if he'd crush Kelham's head underfoot in her defence, or Zaeed's casual assurance of her ability to take care of herself.

She felt a breath by her ear and a whisper of, "Wow, he is even more unpleasant upon second acquaintance. Maybe we should just push him out the shuttle now."

Jack didn't know what else to say so she just muttered, "Tell me about it."

They didn't drop Kelham out of the shuttle the twenty or so storeys as Kasumi had suggested, but he still dropped about fifteen feet, landing on the ground in a bruised heap. He was  _still_  cursing them all out and making threats, Jack was almost impressed by his stamina for bullshit, as he rolled around on the ground bemoaning his broken face. He'd realize sooner than later that there was no bounty on his head and that something was afoot, but the shuttle was already speeding along its way, leaving Kelham and his many "fuck"s behind.


	7. Chapter 7

"Do you get tired of all the comments people make on your appearance?"

The bottle of beer paused for a moment on its way to Jack's lips. "Damn, Kasumi, I thought we were drinking, not playing twenty questions."

Kasumi shrugged apologetically. "I just thought we had that in common. We didn't talk to each other much on the Normandy. It's nice to catch up."

Jack lifted a puzzled eyebrow. "In common? You can turn  _invisible_."

"I know," Kasumi said seriously, "and you distract people away from you with your tattoos and piercings. I like to hide too. But I can turn off my tactical cloak whenever I want."

"It's not hiding," though Jack didn't know if that convinced the thief, let alone herself, and she finished lamely, "they're memories."

Kasumi nodded in supposed agreement. "Memories, hmm...I can understand. I'm quite sentimental too."

"Well, the mental part maybe." Jack grinned as she raised her beer to her lips again. Kasumi could get unnerving, a little annoying sometimes, but she was surprisingly easy to chat with. It helped that she kept flitting between subjects without a hint of awkwardness.

The rest of the crew were arranged around the mess hall drinking to a job done, though it wasn't a rowdy session, and more a chance to unwind before hitting the sack. The data Kasumi had gotten off of Kelham's computer was still running through a decryption program, and the thief had lingered back to the Nihlus rather than seeking her own company as she usually did.

It seemed she had had enough for one night though, as she got up and said, "Time to say good night to Keiji." With that, the air shimmered around her and she disappeared. Jack wondered if she would ever get used to that.

Jack dozed off for a little on the couch and when she came to, a little startled, it was to find everyone gone. She was surprised with herself, she couldn't remember the last time she had fallen asleep in front of other people. Groaning, she could feel aches and half-healed bruises around her body, and she tried kicking off her boots. The leg she had recently broken twinged in complaint and she fumbled with the clasps.

She heard steps approaching as she cursed at her stubborn footwear and Zaeed turned the corner, scowling at the detritus left around the hall. He had on the cut-up heavy vest (even his casuals had some kind of armour weave) he occasionally wore around the ship and grabbed a beer from the mess cooler. Without so much as a how-do-you-do he gestured impatiently for Jack to make room on the couch and sat down beside her, grabbing the heel of her boot and yanking it off easily with a sharp tug.

"Defeated by a goddamn shoe?"

"Fuck you."

Zaeed snorted. "You must be tired if that's the best you can come up with, sweetheart."

"My leg hurts and I haven't slept properly in days," she complained. Her voice sounded petulant even to her ears.

Zaeed seemed to think so as well, letting out his gruff bark of laughter. "Not having an easy time of it, are you? Fucking up Reapers and saving the goddamn galaxy not enough practice?"

She frowned, closing her eyes and clamping her hands against her temples. "Not on how to put up with your lectures, yeah."

Zaeed just chuckled again, called her a 'smartass' and took a swig of his beer. He then picked up one of her discarded boots, put his arm down the leg and observed as one of his fingers poked out through a hole in the heel. "Not good on your gear upkeep?"

Jack was too exhausted for a clever reply so she just smacked him in the arm instead. Zaeed stuck a cigarette between his lips and set to work on patching the hole.

"You're always cleaning your guns or patching your armour. Is that the only shit you do to relax?"

Zaeed grunted, plucked the cigarette from his lips and blew a stream of smoke into her face. "Well there's that or a quick fuck in the back of an alley, yeah."

Jack's laugh bubbled out of her in graceless snorts. It just shied of hitting a hysterical note, she had needed something, either a fight or a laugh, to release the shit that had built up over the previous few days. When it subsided, she rested her head against the couch, staring at somewhere off in the distance.

He didn't know where her head was at and didn't expect to find out, until she asked, "Did you buy into Shepard?"

"Here." He tossed her newly repaired boot by her feet and eased back again, scratching absently at some stubble growing on his face. "What do you mean by that?"

Jack shrugged dismissively, but he knew she hadn't brought it up for no reason. She let out a sigh, the kind that spoke to a planet's worth of weight, and rested her head against his shoulder.

"You going to start crying? I told you the turian was the hugging type."

Jack snorted. "I thought you were a snuggler. Samara sure got that impression."

"Yeah, well your tits aren't as big as hers." His good eye glazed over momentarily and he smirked as if he were conjuring a pleasing image of the refined justicar. Then, he nudged her with the shoulder in question. "Spit it out, you big mess."

She huffed another sigh, stealing a cigarette from the pack peeking out of his vest pocket. He lit it for her and she eased her head back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. "Did you ever buy into Shepard? Whenever he was making his rounds or giving his stupid speeches...you know?"

"What? All that crap about how lives were depending on us and we were their best chance? We did end up saving the goddamn galaxy in the end. Twice. So I suppose he was right about that. We are the fucking best."

Her lips quirked into a twisted smile at that, but there was still something lost in her eyes. "His boy scout crap, I mean. All that – depend on each other, hold hands and sing kumbayah...crap."

Zaeed crossed his arms against his chest. "Yeah, I see what you mean about not being a good talker, sweetheart." She remained silent, and he decided to lay off, and considered her line of musings seriously. "Naw, I tuned out for most of that shit. He believed it, 's enough for me. Whatever you need to get you to stare down impending goddamn death and not flinch."

"Yeah, I guess you only cared about the money, you fucking merc."

Zaeed just grunted and shrugged, not posing a denial. "I like a challenge." Then he tilted his head slightly, looking at her out of the corner of his good eye. "You bought it though."

Jack couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement. "Says who?"

"You wouldn't be this fucking cut up about it right now if you hadn't at some point bought into it. Or such a goddamn mess when I found you picking fights in the dirtiest corners of Omega. That was some pretty desperate crap you were hauling around, sweetheart."

Jack's spine steeled and she raised her lit cigarette up between them. "Watch it or I'll fucking burn you and I'm not fucking kidding."

"Ah, bite me, sweetheart. You were the one that wanted to talk."

She sucked angrily on the smouldering remains of the cigarette and then flicked the butt away from her. "Yeah, well I'm done now."

He tipped the last dregs of his beer into his mouth and set the bottle down. "Don't get twisted up about it. It's alright to believe in some things. Yeah, some of what Shepard prattled on about rubbed off on me. It's why I gave you a goddamn job."

He pushed himself off the couch and cracked his neck, taking his leave with a grumbled, "night". She didn't watch him leave, still staring off somewhere and her jaw clenched tight. Finally, when she knew she was alone, she laid down and curled up on her side, hugging an arm to her chest.

***

Omega wasn't a kingdom, or a criminal utopia or even hell on earth, no matter what dramatics Aria T'Loak wanted you to believe. It was far simpler than that. Oh, it was no exaggeration to say death clung in the air, but it was a stale, mundane, clinical kind of death. Omega was a slaughterhouse. An oiled machine that sometimes had missing gears or hiccoughs, but one that continued to run.

Jack didn't remember how she ended up there, but didn't care. If you had a nose for trouble like she did, you always eventually found your way back to that dingy, neon shithole. All she cared about when she prowled those alleyways was that she never needed to go looking for a fight, eventually she would stumble into one.

It was just always a bigger, bloodier party if you actively went hunting for it.

She had been in a numb haze that nothing could penetrate. Drinking, sure, but the buzz never lasted. Being dragged out for a rough hump against a dirty wall, whatever. It usually ended with the random asshole bleeding in a heap on the ground for his troubles just because she could. The only time she felt a flicker of anything was surrounded by a crowd of pissed off thugs, because eventually the smell of their fear clogged the air as they realized the little girl that they had decided to take down was ripping through them like tissue paper, laughing the entire time.

It escalated until she was harassing the mercs because then at least some would manage to hit back, and it just didn't feel like her time was well spent unless she was staggering away with new cuts or burns painted over her body and her hands drenched in blood. She wasn't interested in thinking at the time, but instinctively she knew she was sending out a clarion call into the slaughterhouse to kick the machine into high gear – look at me, I'm  _here_  – suck her up into the gears and chew her out into a sack of meat at the end. Because that was what Omega was good for. Assisted fucking suicide.

The Blood Pack had finally had enough of her shit and the krogan had come out to play. They didn't spare any time on posturing, one just pointed and said "her" and they trooped towards her with the single-minded determination a pack of krogan had to wipe something out of existence.

She thought nothing could call her back from the easy darkness of sleepwalking to her death, until one of them had managed to knock her ass to the ground. She could see the shadow of a large foot raising up to come crashing down on her skull and then heard a grizzled voice ring out in the alleyway.

"Back off, son."

There was the bark of a shotgun and the shadow looming above her stumbled away. She heard the displeased grunts of one nearby. "This isn't your problem, Massani."

"It is now."

She wasn't sure of the exact moment, but she had woken up then. Felt the hard snap of coming back to reality, and when the last krogan had been torn to pieces by her biotic shockwave, she followed Zaeed back to his ship as if it had been planned out between them all along.

***

"The gunship was stolen." Kasumi had one of those mysterious little smiles on her face, as if she were delighted by the development. "He never sold it."

Zaeed felt a muscle work in his jaw. "But then we've lost the goddamn trail again, haven't we? No sale record to go on."

Kasumi shook her head gently, passing him a datapad. "He never reported it. Not to the Illium police or his own partners. Kelham is the type of man who would want to raise a lot of noise and attention if someone disturbed his enterprise. Get his revenge publicly. But if he didn't...then he has an idea of who took it and is afraid."

Zaeed looked through the datapad with a feeling of unease. The feeling of being hunted and like a trap was closing in around him grew more pressing every day.

Kasumi seemed to feel this closed the discussion and changed subjects. "Jack is pretending to be asleep, but she's actually been awake for the past half hour. I think she needs a friendly face to go collect her."

She turned abruptly to Tyrus and said, "You. You should go do that."

Tyrus chuckled, raising a puzzled eyebrow at the polite demand, but then stalked off. Kasumi then looked to Zaeed and said, "Walk me out, please."

He fell in along beside her as they made their way out the main air lock to the docking station. Once she had both feet off the Nihlus, Kasumi looked at him and said, "The batarian prisoner you have? You should kill him."

"What?" She said it all in her casual, matter-of-fact tone and he was thrown completely off-guard. "Why?"

He hadn't paid a single thought to the batarian piece of shit stinking up his ship in weeks. The cell had just blended into the background of everyday shitstorms and what else. He assumed Tyrus was the one that fed him, seeing as he hadn't died yet, but otherwise Zaeed had not devoted a single fuck to his prisoner.

"Because he watches all of you when he thinks no one is looking back." She stated this all as if it were enough, but then elaborated when she saw the exasperated look on Zaeed's face. "And he murmurs along to whatever conversation you are having, as if he is trying to memorize it. Or read lips."

Well...shit.

"You're a goddamn lifesaver, Kasumi."

She smirked. "Do remember that. Especially as I have one last thing for you." She reached into one of her sleeves and pulled out a small device, dropping it into Zaeed's hand. He wasn't quite sure what it was, though it resembled a comm link.

"I've done all I can for now, and I have other business to attend to. But that might help you."

He held it up to the light. It had no manufacturer's markings or a serial number. It could have been built by the thief herself. "What is it?"

The air around her shimmered and she disappeared. He heard her disembodied voice whisper, "a way to contact the Shadow Broker" and then she was gone.

***

  
Zaeed wasn't too sure how to handle the batarian smuggler, so for the moment it was to pretend nothing was wrong. If he had a mole sitting right in his goddamn mess hall, he wasn't going to tip the bastard off. He waited until it was about mealtime and enough bodies were gathered in the mess before he signalled for Tyrus to walk with him.

The turian had good instincts and played it casual until they were clomping down the stairs to the lower cargo hold where Jack was playing cards with Sherri.

Zaeed gave Sherri a gruff jerk of his head. "Out."

"Not until I win the rest of Jack's credits."

" _Out_." Sherri glanced up, got a proper look at his scowl, and abandoned her cards hastily at the table. He sat down in the chair Sherri had previously occupied and Tyrus leaned against the table.

"What-"

Zaeed cut her off and pulled out the small communications device. "We got a call to make to the goddamn Shadow Broker."

Tyrus' soft curse was mirrored by Jack. Zaeed looked up at her impatiently. "Did you ever talk to T'Soni?"

Jack dumbly shook her head.

"Damn. I don't know if she'll trust us."

Tyrus held up a hand and spluttered, "You know who the Shadow Broker is?"

"Some asari scientist, ran with Shepard. It was before I got recruited though."

Jack looked just as lost, and lamely offered, "Never met her. Lenorra or something?"

" _Liara, actually_."

The three of them jumped as a heavily modulated voice spoke from the comm device. Jack had pushed herself so far away from the table that she almost toppled out of her chair, and Zaeed and Tyrus had both reached instinctively for pistols that weren't at their sides.

" _And I've never had the pleasure. But I will agree to meet you out of the goodwill for our mutual acquaintance. If Commander Shepard trusted you, I will follow his lead. For the time being."_

Zaeed's breath was caught in his throat. How long had she been listening in? How was it even possible? He looked around, slightly paranoid as to whether she could see them or how much she knew about the goings-on inside his ship.

"Where?" He finally managed to croak out.

" _You will have to come to me. I will send you the coordinates. Understand that if I feel even a slight suspicion that my trust will be breached...you won't be leaving my station."_

Zaeed didn't like being threatened and was tempted to destroy the comm device. Even through the voice modulation he could tell she meant it.

" _This device will now self-destruct in ten seconds. Also, Mr. Massani, kindly don't reveal my name to anymore of your associates. It will not bode well for either of you. Bring Tyrus Sharian along with you when you visit me._ "

There was a static hiss and then a dead tone. The comm device began blinking and after a tense moment there was a small " _pop_ " and the casing burst open, revealing a mess of burnt wires inside.

"How did she know my name?" Tyrus finally breathed out, clutching his chest as if he had a heart attack.

Jack's eyebrows were lifted so high on her face they almost disappeared into her hairline. "Well. She sounds like fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Mordinette, for awesome comments and links to some great writing articles, and to Jazzpha my sounding board and unofficial beta. As always, if you like mercenary life, badassery and an awesome crew (along with plenty of familiar faces), check out their fic "Black Sun Rising" hosted at ff.net.
> 
> Cheers everyone!


	8. Chapter 8

Sherri frowned in thought, her hands busy as she was pulling up navigational schematics and trying to plot a course to the abandoned system Zaeed had given her coordinates for. Zaeed hadn't given her too much information to go on, and to her surprise she couldn't even flirt the information out of Tyrus. She was just told it was "goddamn important" and they were picking up vital intel.

Whatever, so long as she was getting paid. The course was looking tricky, however, as it was in the Hagalaz system far from the Hourglass relay. There weren't many fuel depots along the way either. And the system itself had lot of debris, black spots and atmospheric storms...

"Hey, Sherr, got any scissors stowed away up here?" Jack poked her head into the cockpit.

Sherri twisted around in her chair, glad for the distraction. She'd been working on the problem for the better part of the morning and it was giving her a headache. She began to root around under her consoles and chair. "What's up?"

Jack gave an irritated 'huff', blowing a wisp of hair away from her eyes. "I need a trim."

Sherri finally emerged triumphant, the precious scissors in her hand. She motioned at the co-pilot's seat for Jack to sit down in. "Come on, I'll do it."

Jack hesitated for a moment, unbeknownst to Sherri who was hunting for a rag. Jack always cut her own hair. No damn way she'd let someone that close to her neck and scalp with an edged blade. Sherri placed the rag on the seat and then looked at her with an expectant grin. "I used to cut my old boyfriend's hair all the time, don't sweat it. Can't look worse than it already does."

Jack smirked back, steeled herself, and then sat gingerly down in the chair. It took more effort than the chipper pilot realized for Jack to hold still as she carefully began snipping away with a practised eye. Jack had to force herself to remain in the seat when the scissor blades whispered against her naked scalp, and to keep her biotics in check so that Sherri didn't go flying into her command console. Everyone from Shepard right down to that grumpy bastard Massani kept telling her to start trusting people. She listened sometimes.

Sherri was happily chatting away, oblivious to Jack's intense discomfort. It was only until the scissors were put away and the stray hairs wiped from Jack's neck that she heard a word the pilot was saying.

"...booze run."

"What?" Jack's hand immediately flew to the back of her head, instinctively checking for cuts.

Sherri rolled her eyes. "I said we need to go for a booze run. Once we're out of the mass relay we got a long fucking trip ahead of us. No way I want it to be a dry one."

Jack stood up, brushing more stray hair off of her clothing and it littered the floor of the cockpit. She snickered inwardly when she thought of how Joker would have reacted to this kind of a mess in his sacred territory.

"How long will it take?"

Sherri frowned, looking back to her galaxy map. "Long enough that we'll have to make at least one more stop for fuel in a nearby system. There aren't any depots, so I'm looking for a colony or outpost that might have a refuelling station." She sighed heavily. "What I wouldn't give for us to have some better FTL boosters."

Jack just shrugged, sweeping her hair up in one hand and retying it. Sherri looked back at her then with a cheeky look on her face. "So you were saying you look good in a dress. Pick a hot one for tonight."

Jack laughed. "You want to go on a date with me, Sherr?"

Sherri threw her an air-kiss. "No, but I  _do_  want to go dancing. Boss man said we're shipping out first thing tomorrow morning. Tonight's our last chance to get fucked up and have fun."

"Deal."

"But booze run first," Sherri added as an afterthought, swivelling her chair around and consulting her maps again.

 

***

 

The entire crew had seemed to take that sentiment to heart, crashing into the Eternity lounge and slamming their hard-earned credits on the bar. Neither Jack nor Sherri were in skirts, however, as Sherri chickened out and Jack was hoping for a bar fight. Though she kept that quietly to herself.

It was the first time Jack had seen the little mercenary crew all jammed into one place, and was secretly impressed by how much damage they could do. Anvil Chin had already broken some of the expensive lighting fixtures, Zaeed and Tyrus were off somewhere getting lap dances, Sherri was doing god knows what in the bathroom and the bartenders all had that strained look on their faces that meant they were only putting up with them in the hopes for a gargantuan tip.

After doing every shot on the menu in a consecutive line, breaking a table and slapping around a mouthy salarian, Jack was even in a good enough mood to put up with Langdon's pathetic attempts at flirting and danced with him.

"You don't want to get a little more comfortable?" The asari dancer purred, running her fingers along the clasps of Zaeed's armour. Tyrus briefly glanced over from his pretty view of a dancer's breasts shimmying in front of him and barked with laughter.

"He's married to it, honey, hundreds before you have tried and failed."

She pouted, pretending to turn away as she wiggled her ass closer to Zaeed's face. He chuckled, resting his legs on top of the table, his drink held lazily in his hand. "You let me worry about that, sweetheart."

"I don't plan on letting you worry about anything." She rested her legs on the tabletop and then bent over backwards in an impressive feat of acrobatics, her fingertips skimming the top of his knees as she gave him an excellent view of her breasts and the body paint that counted for her clothing.

"Oh, I think we're going to get along..."

"Where ya going, honey?" Tyrus' dancer grabbed his hand and pulled it down to her breast, trying to prevent him from getting up. He responded with an enthusiastic squeeze, but then extricated himself from her grasp.

"I'm coming back, don't you worry. Just need another drink. Anything you want, Massani?"

Zaeed's dancer was now kneeling on top of the table, her torso undulating scant inches from his face, and he gave a hoarse, "Not from you."

Tyrus wound his way out of the crowd and back into the main crush of Eternity, shoving a few people out of his way when they didn't part fast enough. He rested his elbows on the bar, waiting to catch the bartender's attention and scanned the room. He briefly wondered where Sherri was, maybe he could convince her to have a go on the pole, saw Jack dancing on top of a table, and a large crowd of men in blue and white armour pushing their way into the lounge.

_Shit_.

"What can I get you?" Tyrus ignored the bartender with a wave of his hand, pushing off the counter and threading carefully through the crowd.

"...you can wait your fucking turn – got a problem, turian?"

Tyrus didn't answer, quickly pushing his way through the crowd away from the Blue Suns troopers, who were now laughing as they thought his hasty exit was a retreat. He had seen the old batarian amongst them, ugly scar splitting his lower lip in half, and knew there was going to be a lot of trouble.

He finally managed to make his way to the dance floor where Jack was, shoving one drunk out of the way so hard the poor bastard smacked into the wall, and grabbed her arm. "Go get Massani, we're getting the fuck out of here."

"What?" She snapped at him, annoyed to be interrupted in the middle of pouring her drink over an asari's stomach. "Lighten up, Tyrus."

He yanked her away, the drunk asari complaining that he was killing the mood, and ducked just as Jack swung her fist at his head. He shook her none too gently. "We've got Blue Suns and fucking Nax Vett of all people here, so just go do it!"

Jack mimicked a flapping mouth with her hand. "Yak, yak, yak. Who the fuck cares if the Blue Suns are here? Maybe I can get into a fight tonight after all."

Tyrus shook his head ominously, now completely stone sober. "Do you know anything about Massani's history with the Suns? Or with Vido?"

Jack was finally starting to take him seriously, though she still had a confused frown on her face. "Vaguely."

"Well normally it doesn't mean shit when the Suns are around, but that ugly batarian was one of the guys holding Zaeed down when half his face got blown off – so tonight there is going to be  _a lot_ of shit unless we can get Massani out of here without them noticing each other."

Tyrus gave another quick glance around the bar and swore when he saw the Blue Suns making their way to the back lounges where the dancers were. He had been hoping to head them off earlier. He dragged Jack along with him as he tried to push through the crowd, ignoring her squawks of protest.

"So what?" She was panting as she tried to keep up with him. "He can fuck him up, why stop him?"

Tyrus swung his face around to her, his eyes narrowed and his mandibles flared with a warning 'click'. "Have you ever seen Massani really angry?"

Jack gave an emphatic, " _Yes_."

"So angry he wasn't in control?"

"I'd like to see-"

Tyrus cut her off with a dark, "You don't."

They finally made their way to the back lounge and Tyrus shoved her inside. The Blue Suns troops were already settling themselves down and pushing aside some unlucky bastards to claim their dancers. Tyrus was slowly starting to panic, he was running out of time before Zaeed and Nax saw each other.

"Jack, cause a distraction."

She threw her arms up in the air, still confused and slightly drunk. "What the hell do you want me to do?"

Tyrus rolled his eyes and said in an exasperated tone, "Oh, I don't know – do you  _not_  know how to distract a bunch of horny thugs?"

She snapped, "Fine!" and he shoved her towards them. He would just have to get Zaeed out of there himself and hope for the best.

Zaeed's dancer was arranged comfortably on his lap as she giggled, pushing her breasts in front of his face before wriggling away, running her teasing fingers along his collar. "I like men with tattoos."

"Happy to oblige."

She ran her fingers along the pistol holstered at his thigh and he caught her hand in his, a hint of danger in his voice. "I wouldn't touch that, sweetheart."

She just giggled again, manoeuvring his hand so that it rested on her hip. "You got something else I can play with?"

There was a loud "Hey!", which Zaeed ignored until it was followed up by, "Perv!" and he groaned as he realized it was Jack.

"Piss off."

Suddenly the dancer was tumbling out of his lap, Jack's hand closed over her wrist. Zaeed gave an outraged " _Oi_!" that quickly died in his throat when Jack roughly pulled the dancer up to her and mashed their lips together. He didn't know what stupid impulses possessed the girl sometimes, but right now he was not complaining.

The Blue Suns mercenaries in the lounge seemed to appreciate the interruption as well, elbowing each other and pointing. A chorus of lewd and encouraging whistles erupted from them. The dancer didn't seem to mind the abrupt change in performance either, winding her arms around Jack's back and licking her neck.

Tyrus felt this was as good a time as any to try and rescue the night, steeled himself up to do something incredibly stupid, and then grabbed a distracted Zaeed around the neck from behind. They went crashing to the floor and Tyrus was quickly flipped on his back, his head cracking painfully against the ground. The old man still had sharp reflexes and knew how to make someone regret trying to ambush his blind side.

A look of confusion flitted briefly across Zaeed's eyes and Tyrus took that opportunity to punch him in the face. He felt the wind knocked out of him a second later as Zaeed's armoured knee slammed into his gut, but he could distantly hear the Blue Suns still egging Jack on. He hoped she could keep their attention just a bit longer and away from the two men now wrestling on the floor.

Zaeed hammered three more blows to the side of Tyrus' head before he managed to shove the pissed off merc outside of the dancer's lounge and into the main bar of Eternity. There was a dull roar from the crowd of people who hastily backed away from the two men beating the shit out of each other. Tyrus tried to sweep Zaeed's legs out from under him, but Zaeed neatly grabbed his arm into a painful lock and used the momentum to headbutt him. Blood spurted from Tyrus' mouth, he suspected he'd cracked a tooth, and then he felt blows from all sides.

"Take it somewhere else!" They were rudely shoved out of Eternity by security. Tyrus barrelled into Zaeed and knocked him to the floor again before Zaeed had a chance to go after one of the bouncers. Or his gun.

He was rewarded with an elbow slammed into his windpipe and collapsed onto the ground like a sack of bricks. That was the problem with picking a fight with Zaeed – he didn't fuck around. Wheezing and spitting out blood, he struggled to prop himself up on his elbows, but collapsed back down instead. Everything  _hurt_.

A rough hand grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. He heard Zaeed's rough growl somewhere in the distance, his head still swimming in a haze of pain. "There a reason you gave me those love taps or did you just want a goddam dance?"

"Just...making sure...you still had it.." Tyrus coughed, doubled over and spat out more blood onto the ground. "Don't...make me...talk right now..."

Jack chose that moment to come running out of Eternity, her eyes widening at the abused state Tyrus had been left in. "Shit."

Zaeed had a feeling the two of them were up to something, but took pity on Tyrus as the turian let out another pained groan and decided to leave it for the night. He scowled at Jack. "Already had your fun?"

She gave him a flippant shrug. "I don't like clingy girls."

Zaeed slung Tyrus' arm over his shoulders, giving him one last irritated rap to the side of the head. "You just wanted me to carry your sorry arse back to the ship."

Jack gave one last worried glance to the turian, who was black and blue all over, and then tried to break the tension with an awkward, "I'm fucking starving. Want to go to the noodle stand?"

 

***

 

The rest of the crew found their way back to the Nihlus at various points over the night, unaware of the incident. Sherri dragged herself to the cockpit and fell asleep at her command console so she wouldn't miss their scheduled take-off, though she flew the ship out of Illium through bloodshot eyes.

Tyrus stumbled his way down to their makeshift gym, rubbing at his jaw. It could have been a lot worse, neither he nor Zaeed had been fighting to kill for one thing. There were bruises and scrapes all over his body, and he found he had indeed cracked a tooth. Despite this and the yearning he had to sleep in, he had a post-drinking ritual that was always to work out. He didn't like getting sloppy.

Tyrus was half-way through his regiment, working on the heavy bag, when Zaeed came in and found a comfortable spot against the wall to lean on. There was a bruise forming on his chin, and Tyrus mentally congratulated himself. Even pulling himself back, he could give the old man a run for his money.

"You ready to tell me what that bullshit was all about last night? Takes some stones to interrupt a man with a goddamn headlock."

"Ah, that." Tyrus winced a little, his tone evasive as he continued punching the bag. "Umm...let's just say you had some old friends show up last night, and I didn't want us all thrown in prison."

Tyrus peeked over at where Zaeed was standing and saw a stony look on the man's face. Zaeed was quiet for a moment and then rasped, "The Suns. Who?"

"An 'old friend'."

"I won't ask again."

Tyrus was still unable to look at Zaeed in the face. "Nax."

Zaeed spat a curse out the side of his mouth. He felt a spark of white-hot rage lick his insides and for a moment he was mentally cataloguing all the ways he was going to dissect that batarian bastard if he ever managed to get his hands on him. It subsided though, falling away to common sense, and Zaeed gave a nod to Tyrus to let him know he agreed it was the right move.

Tyrus finally felt himself relax, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in.

"Why was Jack roped in with that?"

Tyrus chuckled a little as he recalled the previous night's events. "I needed her help to distract them so I could get you out of there."

Zaeed scowled. "You put her up to that?"

"I didn't know what she was going to do!" Tyrus' voice was thick with laughter now. "Hell of a show, though. I would have asked her sooner if I knew she-"

The bag suddenly swung the wrong way and hit him in the chest, causing him to stagger back. He almost lost his footing, but managed to stay upright, spitting out a curse. He saw Zaeed standing on the other side of the bag, a grim look on his face, and his temper flared.

_"If you want to dance for real, Massani, I'll_ -"

"Don't use her as bait."

Whatever Tyrus was expecting to hear, that was so far off from the mark that it took him a second to register what Zaeed had said. It effectively cut off his tirade and his desire for a second round immediately vanished. "What..."

Zaeed still had that hard, grim look on his face. "She's not bait, she's combat – got it? I pulled her out of a shitty place to keep her from that."

Tyrus was about to crack into a grin with some witty line to ease the tension, but his mouth twisted away from it when he saw the unrelenting glare in Zaeed's good eye. Zaeed wasn't going to let up on the subject that easily, so Tyrus just silently nodded. Zaeed finally seemed satisfied and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

Tyrus had completely lost interest in continuing his workout. He'd known Zaeed for years and it was a rare, few things that got under the merc's skin like that. The implications that held in relation to Jack, who Tyrus quite liked, were unpleasant. His voice came out in a stunned whisper.

"What's her story?"

Zaeed's shoulders hitched up slightly, but the flat tone of his voice spoke volumes. "Bad enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting, things are starting to get a little crazy busy on this end and it might be a little longer in between chapters. Also because I need to get off my ass and start plugging in more time with this fic as I'm running out of pre-written chapters to edit (hur hur).
> 
> This chapter was tons of fun to write, and I couldn't resist letting Zaeed have some asari fun, or to give Tyrus a good old bar fight. Having these mercs get into some good old-fashioned trouble is too much fun.
> 
> Some questions have arisen over Liara's future presence in this, and I will answer that in more detail when it comes up. But for right now I'll say that I'm not really working in a universe where the Citadel party happened, because it's too jarring a tonal shift with the rest of VZ and I'm finding it very tricky to work in. Some mentions to it have already occurred (like with Samara, etc.) but it isn't something I want to go into great detail over. Either way, this will all be smoothed over for when they finally meet the Shadow Broker.
> 
> Big thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, please let me know what you think as it makes my day :) Special thanks to Mordinette who's my sole commenter on AO3. And don't forget - check out Jazzpha and their excellent fic Black Sun Rising for more Zaeed and mercenary fun. The treatment of Jack in that story is just so gush-worthy. Oh man! (and the BSR crew has bonus Krogan)


	9. Chapter 9

"Hello, darling." Zaeed looked with surprise at a small pair of blue eyes staring shyly back at him from behind the ammunition crate. He tried to sound warm and reassuring, but he couldn't erase the gruff timbre from his voice. The eyes disappeared, a swish of blonde hair disappeared from view.

He patted around in his pockets hunting for something that wasn't a knife, cigarettes or a spare thermal clip. He finally dug out a ration bar and tossed it over to the side of the crate. He waited a few moments and then heard the crinkle of the wrapper being opened and the sounds of chewing.

"You want to come out, sweetheart?"

"Who are you talking to, Massani-"

Zaeed cut off his comrade with an impatient hand and put a finger to his lips. His patience was rewarded as a sliver of a young girl peeked from behind the crate. His fellow mercenary raised an eyebrow, but then smiled at the little girl, who tentatively stepped out.

She was thin and dirty, the ration bar already gone. Zaeed's mouth tugged downwards, but he tried not to scowl because he knew he probably looked intimidating enough with a dirty great scar cutting through his face. The other mercenary, a younger and more handsome man, dropped to his knees so he didn't tower over the girl and, taking his cue from Zaeed, pulled out a second ration bar and held it out in the air.

She came over in halting, nervous steps, her eyes constantly darting to the entrance flap of the tent. That already told Zaeed of more misery she must have endured than he cared to know. She snatched the ration bar and danced away, greedy little hands already tearing it open as she crammed it into her mouth. He shared a concerned look with the other mercenary, who eased himself into a sitting position on the ground.

"I'm Zaeed. This is my friend Matius."

She looked at them, suspicious, but finally said, "Amy."

Zaeed moved aside on the upturned crate he was sitting on and patted the spot beside him. "You can sit here, Amy. It's more comfortable."

He then started cleaning his gun and pretended as if she weren't in the tent. The other mercenary, Matius, gave him a puzzled look, but followed his lead and didn't pay her any attention. Zaeed was carefully watching her out of the corner of his good eye, as she watched them nervously, and then took halting steps towards the improvised seat. He didn't know a goddamn thing about children, but she reminded him of a frightened wild animal, and he knew something about flushing game from hunting.

He felt her settle in beside him, fidgeting and sitting on her hands. When finally she rested her weary form against his arm he gave her a gentle pat on the head.

"Are you from the colony?"

She nodded.

"Where are your parents?"

She gave him a look that was far too old for a little girl, and simply said, "The batarians."

Zaeed couldn't help the scowl this time, and a similar one was mirrored on Matius' face. Their company had been dropped onto this shit backwater planet because a batarian slaver ring had shown up and terrorized the place. Half of the able-bodied men and young women had already been abducted and flown off to unknown parts of the galaxy.

"They're moving, you know." She hugged her legs to her chest and chewed on a thumbnail, eyes still darting nervously around the tent. "So I ran away. They aren't at the colony anymore."

Zaeed's eyebrows shot up. Their orders had been to prepare an ambush for nightfall. The company leaders were sure the batarian forces were going to make a push for their ships then. "Where are they?"

"They're moving now. Around the river."

The bastards were trying to flank them while they were still preparing ground defences. He looked at the little girl in amazement at their lucky break. She looked at Matius curiously, and then in a shy, but lighter voice said, "I like your hair."

That settled it. Zaeed had Matius swap places with him, tossed them a few more ration bars, and jogged out to inform the company leaders of the change in plan. They had to make hasty preparations, but were still given at least an hour's warning and that was more than plenty. The batarian's were slaughtered in the oncoming engagement and the mercenaries didn't take a single loss. It was a job done goddamn well.

The company leaders, a brother and sister team Zaeed had worked with on a couple jobs before, weren't the sentimental type and normally wouldn't have wasted their time on a civilian, but considering Amy had helped them earn an easy paycheck, they allowed her to come on board the ship.

Finally away from the imprisonment and carnage her home had turned into, she was entranced and taken in by the rough smiles and dirty laughter of the mercs. They treated her like a lucky charm and mascot, and soon she was happily babbling away at them, making them play games with her, tell her stories or teach her the lyrics to a dirty song. She liked to use Matius as her personal jungle gym, and she also liked to follow Zaeed around and try to imitate his accent.

When they made a stop to a supply station she waved goodbye to them with tears in her eyes as they waved back and made her promise to remember all the dirty jokes they had taught her. Zaeed had a nagging suspicion the orphan agency she had been left with were nothing better than a cheap prostitution ring, so he left an anonymous tip with an Alliance office nearby to go collect her. He never found out what happened to her after, but was sure she had been relocated to a different human colony as a refugee.

He was surprised when some of the crew after mentioned that they missed having their good luck charm around. It only lasted a few days before the memory was gone and it was back to business as usual.

Sometimes he forgot her name, it nagging him as it sat on the tip of his tongue. But he usually remembered her giggles as she tried to pronounce his name and try out his accent, and the thought that at least he had done one thing that wasn't a moral shade of gray.

There were too many other broken things in the galaxy.

***

Jack squirmed a little as she felt the heat of Massani's gaze through his good eye between her shoulder blades. She didn't like being under scrutiny. He had a far away look on his face and when she snapped, asking him what the deal was, he just grunted and looked away. Said he was remembering an old mission.

"Quit woolgathering, old man, and show me what you've got." Tyrus was flipping a throwing knife in his hand with a disarming grace.

The crew had cabin fever and had all crammed into the mess hall for lack of anything better to do. Tyrus had set up a target on the wall and bet a hundred credits on anyone who could sling a knife better than he could, and so far everyone had come up empty. Zaeed was poring over his datapad again, though this time it was for the all important business of money. A merc crew's loyalty depended heavily on how well paid they were, and with their recent string of messes there wasn't a lot of bounty to be split into tiered shares. Not to mention for the fight he knew was upcoming he was going to need to pick up some more men...

"Are we breaking up, Massani, or do you have a sex VI installed on that damn thing?"

"She's a classier dame than you." But he tossed the datapad away and strolled up to the turian, grabbing the knife from his hand, and tossing it at the target in one smooth motion. It landed almost dead-centre before anyone had a chance to blink, and the crew roared their approval.

"I think you owe me some credits, Tyrus."

"That's nothing." Jack tugged the knife out of the wall and lined up. She flipped it by the handle a couple of times, and when it hung in mid-air, she flicked her hand forward. The knife shot forward seemingly of its own volition and thudded right into the middle of the target, a smug grin on her face as the aura of her biotics faded around her.

"That's a cute trick, but I don't pay cheaters," Tyrus said as he tried to hide a smile.

"Aw, am I not as pretty as Sherri?"

Sherri, who'd been mid-sip in a bottle of beer, spluttered and nearly choked, going completely red in the face. Tyrus just had his arms across his chest looking cool as a cucumber, but turians couldn't blush so Jack thought he was getting off easy.

Curtis, one half of a set of twins (Jack had finally paid enough attention to learn the names of Thug One and Thug Two), pounded Sherri on the back to prevent her from choking, though he was laughing at her just the same. She tried saying something to defend herself, but stammered badly, "That...that..."

Zaeed cut her off, a knowing smirk on his face. "You two should just shag and get it over with. We're all goddamn sick of you two dancing around it like a pair of teenagers."

Jack had to cover her hands with her mouth to stop the giggles from spilling forth as Sherri was almost going purple in the face with embarrassment. Tyrus just glared at all of them for a moment, and then surprised everyone by shrugging.

"All right." He strode over, picked up Sherri with casual ease and slung her over his shoulder and began hauling her out of the mess hall. The crew exploded with excitement and into a loud chorus of suggestive encouragement. Sherri just moaned and covered her face with her hands, still glowing a furious pink.

"Keep it down you two," Zaeed grunted, shaking his head.

Tyrus, without looking back, just gave an airy, "I promise nothing" and the pair disappeared around the corner.

The crew were still going ape-shit and Zaeed heard some more bottles break, as if they could christen the new romance with spilt beer. Well, that was one way of killing time on board a merc ship.

"Zaeed, you want in on this round?" Tobias, the other half of their muscly twins, was swiftly dealing out cards onto the mess table. From the deck formation Zaeed already knew what game he wanted to play, and it involved some good, old-fashioned violence. He cracked open a beer and sat down.

"You sure you want to get hurt, son?"

Tobias merely grinned, flexing the muscles in his arms and laid out his first card. It was a very simple game of chance and endurance. Jack watched with interest from the couch, as each man showed his dealt hand. She didn't know what they meant, but from the widening grin on Tobias' face, still Thug Two in her mind, she assumed he'd won that round. Her suspicions were confirmed when Tobias then reached across the table and rapped Zaeed hard behind the ear.

She snorted out a surprised laugh as Zaeed shook his head and dealt the next hand. "So you just punch each other?"

Curtis, who was watching as well, shot her a wink. "No, that's the only rule. You hit as hard as possible without actually throwing a punch."

"That is the stupidest game I've ever heard of."

"You're just saying that because you wouldn't last two roun –  _shit_ , man!" Tobias winced as Zaeed cracked him a solid rap behind the ear, holding up his winning hand with a smirk.

Jack watched with mild interest as the game proceeded to get drunker and louder. Tobias had some kind of luck on his side as he managed to get more winning hands, but whenever Zaeed hit him he crumbled faster. Bruises were forming on both of them, and she was sure their heads were going to feel like they were splitting open once the booze wore off. She would put all her money on big Thug Two folding first, because he was starting to drum the table with his fists and curse loudly to pump himself back up every time Zaeed cracked him one against the skull.

She was privately laughing again at what an utterly idiotic game the men were playing when Langdon plopped himself down on the couch beside her, a tipsy smile on his face. She could tell instantly he wanted more than just a friendly chat from the way he was doe-eyeing her and she silently cursed Tyrus for literally sweeping Sherri off her feet. It seemed it had given their resident sniper some ideas of his own.

"I really like your tattoos."

Jack openly laughed, pushing his dumb, grinning face away from hers. "Is that the best you can do? Come on."

To his credit he laughed with her and wasn't deterred. "That was pretty bad, huh? Guess I shouldn't follow that up with telling you I think you're hot."

"Seriously, Langdon, did you learn how to flirt from extranet tutorials?"

He put on a mock-serious face. "So you've seen those vids too?"

Zaeed knew Tobias was two more hits away from dropping to the floor like a sack of bricks. The little bastard hit hard and his head was goddamn pounding, but you never showed weakness to an opponent. He could hear Langdon's pathetic attempts to put the moves on Jack and was surprised she hadn't hit him already. He was pretty sure the kid was taking advantage of the pity game all he could, and maybe Jack was drunk enough that she didn't care. It was probably a good thing she was learning patience and could play nice.

He could have shown the young idiot how it was really done, but Zaeed had something larger on his mind. That smuggler was still watching them, and this was exactly what Zaeed wanted that sneaky bastard to see.

***

The Nihlus finally landed on Daratar, a planet mid-way in the Faryar system, and their fuel stop before heading to the Sowilo system. After the second time Zaeed had run into Sherri and Tyrus necking in the cockpit he had growled at her to do some more flying and less inter-species shenanigans, or he would dock her shares every day they ran behind schedule.

The refuelling station was ostensibly supervised by the Council powers, which was unusual this far out in the Terminus systems, but there was a very successful mining colony on Daratar that provided large amounts of Element Zero. Zaeed knew what these backwater colonies were like, there might be a couple fussy aliens wearing Council uniforms, but they were all sourced from the planet itself and were just exploitative scumbags who still skimmed a little eezo off the bottom for the black market.

Sherri had recommended some maintenance work that was needed on their drive core and so the Nihlus would have to be docked for a couple days longer. Zaeed didn't think anyone was going to complain though, as some shore leave was exactly what the crew was itching for. There were some cheap prefab rooms for rent on the outskirts of the colony and a few miles from the refuelling station, specifically left free as a mining colony saw a lot of transients. Jack, of course, had ignored Tyrus' recommendations that they secure their rooms first as she went off looking for what could be considered entertainment in the colony. That girl could never sit still for long.

Tyrus' mandibles clicked with annoyance. "There won't be anywhere for her to bunk by the end of tonight."

"She can scrape herself off a bar floor in the morning, then. Unless you think that cot you rented can fit three." Zaeed checked his omni-tool, ignoring the annoyed glare Tyrus shot him. "Think your friend will show?"

"Sure...she could never say no to this mug."

There was a hint of smugness all men, whatever species, seemed to recognize from each other and Zaeed's eyes snapped up to Tyrus. He stared at him for a second before a smirk broke out over his face.

"Is your Talon contact that old squad leader you mentioned?"

Tyrus put on a mock-innocent expression. "Now that would be just wrong taking advantage of an old fling..."

***

"Hey! Watch where you drop that! I'm not paying you to scuff my floor," Sherri shouted at a couple dock workers who were delivering the new shielding parts to the drive core before the station engineers came by to install the upgrades. She inwardly thought it was a good decision on her part to stay behind and supervise some of the work instead of leaving for the colony with the rest of the crew. She didn't like strangers messing around on her ship.

Mahar could hear her voice fading off into the distance as she continued to harass the workers off the ship. He stretched out his legs as much as he could inside the cell, pounding a fist into a knotted muscle in his thigh. It had been pure hell being stuck inside his tiny prison for weeks on end. He frequently had to remind himself that this was his last job and he was going to be able to retire and live like a king when it was over.

The batarian reached into one of the folds above his cheek and winced as his fingers had to dig around abused flesh to locate and pinch the comm device underneath his skin. He had thought Aria was crazy when she first explained to him how they would keep in touch, but this implant was apparently an old STG prototype that the salarians had finally decided against making standard issue for their operatives. He could see why, it hurt like a bitch every time he had to turn it on and off.

"Mahar reporting in."

At least he didn't have to whisper. Massani didn't realize what a break he'd given him by setting him up in a sound-proofed cell. It was tricky to find times he could send reports, as the Nihlus crew kept irregular hours, but now that they were all gone he felt the relief of being able to speak freely.

It was about a minute before he heard a small voice chirp back through the transmitter buried deep inside his ear canal. "This is Az. What's the status?"

"Nihlus docked at Daratar for refuelling. Entire crew off ship."

"Do you know their destination?"

"No. I already told Aria I have no idea where they're going."

The voice of Az seemed to 'tsk' over the comm. Mahar ground his teeth, but held back his frustrations. This was the roughest job he'd ever been on, but he just had to remember the payout, just keep reminding himself this was all going to be worth it in the end...this cell...this  _better-than-you_  salarian he normally had to deal with...

"Crew status?"

"The turian and the pilot seem to be involved now. She's now a priority target for leverage."

"And Zero?"

That was the nickname they had for Jack, priority target number one.

"Same as usual. She's been displaying even more proficiency with biotics, but same handicaps as before. Reckless, incautious."

"And in relation to Priority Two?"

Massani. Mahar had to consider that one carefully. He had seen many conflicting interactions over the past weeks. "Inconclusive."

"Is that the best you can do?"

Mahar growled now, his hands balling into fists though he had no outlet for his frustration. "She's a hot fucking mess and she's all over the place, what do you want me to say? One day it looks like they're warming up and then the next they're at each others throats. One minute she's shooting down Priority Five and then the next she's flirting with him."

Unflappable, Az ignored Mahar's audible frustration and kept pushing for more information. "William Langdon. Could he become a leverage target?"

Mahar sighed, rubbing his sore legs wearily. "Possibly. Wait for further updates."

"If that's all you can do..."

"Fuck off."

"Az, out."

Mahar reached under the fold and dug around under the skin again, a hot lance of pain shooting down the side of his face as he accidentally hit a nerve. He banged his fist against the side of the cell, the shield shimmering with each strike.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that was a long wait, wasn't it? Updates are still going slowly on this end because of RL, but hopefully the wait won't be as long as it was this time. Thanks for your patience everyone!
> 
> If you recognize Matius from Zaeed's little snapshot from the past, he mentions him in-game during on of his story-times. The really stupid game the mercenary men are playing is actually a variation of a game played by certain Inuit tribes, though their version is much more brutal (it involves being connected by a rope and hitting each other on the ear). And, for those who've enjoyed seeing Tyrus and Sherri - this one's for you ;)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed, you make my day! As always, big thanks to my beta person Jazzpha and if you've been enjoying this fic but thought, "wouldn't it be great if Garrus and Wrex and Miranda and Grunt showed up?" then head on over to read their fic Black Sun Rising. It is a mercenary good time.


	10. Chapter 10

 

The colony of Atar Beta was small, but crowded with many twisting allies, nooks and crannies. Whenever Jack came to a new place she liked to explore it on her own. She moved faster and could cover more ground. She liked getting to know the exits and entrances, and alternate routes to any destination before she felt comfortable enough to let loose in a place. It was also nice to just be on her own for a few hours. The Nihlus crew were fun, she might even admit to herself that she liked them, but being crammed in with all of them in a tin bucket for weeks had grated on her nerves and she needed some space.

 

It was a few hours before nightfall and Jack had already deduced there were only a few things to do on Atar Beta: drink at the local watering hole, grab a land transport and go hunting in the wilderness outside the colony, or kill time at the communal facility. The last was a surprise, as it seemed like a favourite hangout for most of the colony residents and had lots of things to do, including a vid screening theatre and a small gamesroom. Not bad for a backwater hole.

 

There was something strange about the place though, that Jack had noticed the further into the heart of the colony she got. Most of the people she walked by were miners or miner families and they 'stank' of eezo. She could only describe it as being like a smell that she could pick up with another sense. It came off faintly on the clothes of the people around her, and it got stronger around certain machinery that was used in the mines. It made her scalp tingle a little bit, and after a while she decided she liked it.

 

She noticed some movement out of the corner of her eye, off in the distance behind her, and she immediately ducked behind the corner of a prefab building. Walking quickly she darted down a parallel route she had already scoped out until she could see who had been following her.

 

_...Langdon?_

 

He had his hands shoved into his pant pockets, and she could see him craning his neck forward in confusion as he couldn't see her anymore. She had thought someone had been dogging her steps, but had written it off as old paranoia. Now that dumb kid was looking around every direction to see where he had lost her.

 

She sighed inwardly. That's what she got for being nice to him. She didn't need a lost puppy following her around. She was debating whether to slip away unnoticed and head back for the communal facility, or to jump out of the alley and scare him for bugging her when she heard several footsteps marching down the street.

 

Blue energy shimmered around her instantly, her fight or flight instincts on. Langdon was still 'hemming' and 'hawing' in the middle of the street when a small group of men walked past him dressed in Alliance blues.

 

_What the fuck..._

 

They were all walking in unison, but had the relaxed manner of servicemen off duty. One gave Langdon a friendly nod of the head, but other than that they paid him no attention and kept walking down the street. Jack felt frozen in place, a conflicting rush of emotions shooting through her as she watched their retreating forms.

 

Finally they were gone and she then noticed that her hands were clenched into fists and she was trembling. All thoughts of teasing Langdon were gone with a sour note and the only thing she wanted to do was get the hell away from there. It was nothing, they were probably just stationed there for mine security, but Jack was spooked and the prickle on the back of her scalp now had nothing to do with the amount of eezo in the air.

 

***

 

“...they snatched up some ground after the void Archangel made when he was around, but the Suns, Blood Pack and Eclipse still hold a lot more territory than you'd want to fuck with.”

 

“Do they still hold the tunnels?”

 

“Of course. How else would they operate?”

 

The female turian lifted the drink to her lips and her gaze openly raked up and down Tyrus' body. The war paint on her face was drawn in jagged lines that followed her bone structure and gave her the curious look as if she had lightning dancing over her. There was something predatory, but also hypnotic about the way she moved and even Zaeed could see how Tyrus had gotten into a lot of trouble with that one.

 

“And you say Melana's in charge now...that could be interesting.”

 

She tilted her head slightly to the side, her eyes narrowed but coy. “If you think you can just smile and charm her into handing over her best troops, you'd be barking up the wrong tree.”

 

Tyrus placed a hand over his chest. “You wound me, Koreen. I wouldn't dream of seducing her.”

 

“Oh you'd dream it, but you wouldn't get very far.” Koreen drained the rest of her glass and waved for another. “The real question is how you could ever get them to work with you. Talon's become very insular, very territorial. Melana's a hardass with a vision. She won't stop until there are four gangs Omega's known for, and she's not the type to be distracted by whatever little chore you have.”

 

Tyrus drummed his clawed fingers on the tabletop in thought. “Sounds like she's ambitious.”

 

Zaeed had kept quiet for most of the meeting, but shared a look with Tyrus and finally spoke up. “Maybe not ambitious enough.”

 

Koreen was intrigued by that, but when the two men remained silent, she shrugged as if she didn't care. “Whatever it is, you'd have better luck teaching a krogan how to dance.”

 

“Her second in command?”

 

“Daren. Loyal, but has his own ideas on how Talon should be run.” The bartender came by with Koreen's second drink, which she swirled around before sipping. “Not that I'm really in touch with how they do business now. I left that all behind for a quiet life.”

 

Tyrus smirked. “Of course you did. So...can I smile and charm you into setting up a meeting for me with this Daren?”

 

Koreen had a grin on her face that was downright sexual, but also reminded Zaeed very strongly of a large animal cornering its prey. Her fingers raked down Tyrus' arm as she pulled him closer to her and whispered, “I could be persuaded...”

 

Her fingers then clenched tightly around his arm, digging painfully into his skin. The purr in her voice had turned to steel. “...by hard, cold cash. That's the only currency you have to negotiate with me.”

 

Zaeed couldn't help it and he laughed out loud at Tyrus' expense. It was then they noticed the bartender was still hovering over them, coughing politely into his sleeve. He placed another drink down on the table.

 

Annoyed, Tyrus ran a hand over his fringe as he tried to save face, and smirked at Koreen. “A lot of guys buy you drinks in this dump?”

 

The bartender looked mildly affronted that his establishment was being referred to as 'a dump' and coolly said, “Actually, it's for you, sir. From the volus gentleman over there.”

 

He nodded towards Zaeed and then disappeared back into the crowd to wait on another table. All three of them glanced over to see a volus laboriously climb down from a chair across the bar and make his way over to them. He was easily buffeted by the sea of bodies around him and was having a difficult time making his way over.

 

“It looks like your new boyfriend's having some trouble, Massani.”

 

“Fuck off, you scaly bastard.” Zaeed jerked his head towards the direction of the door. “Why don't you take this lovely woman out for a meal and catch up proper. Maybe you can brush up on your fabled charm.”

 

“Still better looking than you.” But Tyrus took Koreen's hand in a gallant gesture and brushed the top of it with his mouth. She rolled her eyes, but took the hint and let him help her up. Zaeed watched them go for a moment, but the volus had finally made its way over and sat down in the now unoccupied seat.

 

“Mr. Massani, your reputation precedes you. I am Temur Ron and I have a proposition.”

 

Straight to the point as was typical of the species. Zaeed considered the drink he had been bought for a moment, and then sipped at it to be polite. Temur Ron took that as an encouraging sign and continued, the rhythmic _hiss_ of his enviro-suit punctuating his speech..

 

“I don't know what sort of business has brought you to this humble colony, but I find the timing quite fortuitous. I am in need of a man of your skills. Perhaps we can reach an agreement.”

 

The drink resembled whisky enough that Zaeed decided to continue drinking it. He glanced at the volus with his good eye and then nodded for him to keep talking.

 

“I am humbly in charge of many of the major acquisitions and transportation of the mine's source of element zero. I've been accused of many things, but I'm really a simple businessman and this colony survives on its ability to turn a profit-”

 

Zaeed sighed, scowling into the whisky drink that was gone too soon. “I don't need your goddamn excuses about why you deal with the black market. Just tell me about the job.”

 

The volus paused for a moment, its breathy _hiss_ slithering through the air. “Of course. Let me speak plainly then. Several of my shipments have gone missing over the past several months. They have then turned up as tainted zero and funding batarian slaver rings. This has brought the attention of the Council and the Alliance on _me_.”

 

The volus needed a moment, his breathing quickening as he fought down some anger. “I would never, _never_ go so far...”

 

Zaeed had to fight down the urge to encourage Temur Ron to take a deep breath.

 

“I've finally determined this betrayal to have originated from my associate, a Mr. Jonah Elliot. He has realized I've made the connection to him and will be leaving the planet tomorrow. In the meanwhile he has gone into hiding and hired a team of bodyguards to get him safely to the transport.”

 

Finally, they were getting somewhere and Zaeed was already turning the job over in his mind and the several means of accomplishing it. It was what he liked to call a 'duck hunt'. Flush out the game by making a lot of noise and then shoot it while it tried to get away. Maybe they could even ambush him at takeoff time by covering the docks.

 

“You want him caught and brought back to you?”

 

Temur Ron looked up at him with the glowing optics of his suit, calm now, and simply said, “I want him killed.”

 

Fair enough.

 

“How badly do you want him killed?”

 

Temur Ron handed him a datapad, and when Zaeed saw the figures on the screen he finally broke into a full smile.

 

***

 

Jack woke to an odd mechanical _ping_ that repeated itself over and over. Stirring from sleep, she wondered for half a second if it was birdsong until she realized it was a hail from her omni-tool. She was fully awake the next second and quickly tapped on her personal device to see it was a message from Zaeed.

 

_ZM: We're on the job. Get your ass to the rendezvous point._

 

She stretched out her arms until she felt a satisfying 'pop' in her shoulder and sat up. She had slept the night before on the flat rooftop of the communal facility after catching the late night vid screenings. There were ledges that hid her from view and she didn't mind sleeping on hard surfaces. Daratar was a warm planet and she had enjoyed sleeping outside with the cool night breeze, and the ability to see or hear if anyone came near the vicinity. Though it was a strange place to call a bed, she had felt completely relaxed.

 

She jumped off the rooftop and landed gracefully with the help of her biotics. It was still early in the morning and no one was around to see her come or go. Just as she liked it.

 

With the help of a few shortcuts she had discovered the day before, she was at the rented prefab building in under fifteen minutes. Zaeed was already leaning against the wall with his armour on, smoking, and she plucked the cigarette from his fingers to steal a drag off it.

 

“Spend the night in lockup?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Liar.”

 

She handed him back the cigarette, blowing a stream of smoke in his face. “I could surprise you.”

 

“You always do,” he grunted and then nodded to the twins, who were the next to arrive. They were soon joined by Langdon, who gave Jack a shy smile she blatantly ignored, and finally Tyrus, who was still yawning.

 

“Late night?” She asked, waggling her eyebrows.

 

He cracked his neck, still rubbing grit from his eyes. “More like an early morning. Sherri snores like a fucking varren.”

 

“If you ladies are done gossiping,” Zaeed glared at them, he was 'on' again, “we're going to split up to cover some more ground. We've got a human target trying to keep out of sight with some guard detail. Whoever gets the bastard personally will get a bonus share. It's easy credits, but don't get excited and do anything goddamn stupid. We've got Alliance in the area so keep it discreet. Stay in radio contact and let me know if you've found him before moving in. Questions?”

 

Tobias asked, “Guard detail?”

 

“Human. Anywhere up to six. Tyrus, you spot me. You kids go have fun. Langdon, go with Jack.”

 

Jack's face dropped and she fixed a dark scowl in Zaeed's direction, but Langdon had already moved to her side with a hopeful grin on his face. She glared at Zaeed as if she could bore a hole through his forehead with her eyes.

 

“Move out. And play _nice_.” The last was growled in her direction and the group split up before she could come up with a retort.

 

“This is cool. I've never done recon before.”

 

Jack held back a sigh. “Come on, skippy.”

 

***

 

Langdon never _shut up_ , and all of his stories of growing up hunting and the best kills of his career were all blending into the background noise of the waking colony around them. Despite this, Jack grudgingly had to admit that the kid had a sharp eye. He was a good sniper and keen observation came with the territory.

 

“Do you like junk food? You sure eat enough of it.”

 

Jack sighed and growled, “Are you trying to call me fat? We can get breakfast later, skippy.”

 

He just grinned again. “You keep calling me that, I like it. But, I meant that skewer joint over there.”

 

He pointed to a food stall on the other side of the street. “The guy's cooking up an order for like five people and packing it all up, and no one else is around. I'm pretty sure the workers all get meals at the mine, so who's ordering this much food for delivery?”

 

Jack's mouth tugged into a smirk, and she was secretly impressed. “Someone who doesn't want to be out in the open but has the munchies.”

 

“Yep. Admit it, I'm growing on you.”

 

She gave him an incredulous look, but the dorky smile on his face persisted and she felt like laughing with him instead of at him. The kid didn't give up easily, she'd give him that. She motioned for him to follow her and they crossed a side street until they could peek out behind a building with the food stall in sight.

 

Their patience was rewarded when a teenage boy came up to the counter and picked up the packages of food. He walked briskly down the street, the very image of an errand boy with a job to do.

 

“Come on, it's game time.”

 

***

 

They had split up so that Langdon tailed the delivery boy on the ground, and Jack ran the rooftops. She was glad they had separated, though remained within visual contact, so she didn't have to listen to Langdon prattle on. That would have been too distracting while they tailed the delivery boy, and Jack was in full hunt mode. Her senses felt sharper and she could feel blood rushing in her ears, excited and keyed up for the oncoming kill.

 

The delivery boy ducked down side streets and in and out of alleyways, but he finally led them to a prefab tenement complex near the mines itself. There wasn't a lot of foot traffic around, it was a quieter part of the colony, and Langdon ducked inside the building and out of sight.

 

“What floor am I going to?” Jack asked over the radio as she broke the lock on the rooftop door that would lead down into the rest of the building.

 

“Third.”

 

“Leave some for me.”

 

The tenements were disgusting, and Jack could tell this must be the 'shady' part of town. She was surprised the colony was even big enough to have a social divide, but sand trippers and vagrants found their way to any part of the galaxy. There were no elevators so she jogged down the stairs when she heard Langdon's voice chirp in her ear.

 

“We've got a problem.”

 

Jack stopped jogging and instead leapt down the stairs, landing on the floor below her. She leapfrogged her way down until she was at the third floor a few breathless moments later. She ran down the hallway until she found an open door and Langdon standing inside, staring agape at the scene in front of him.

 

There were some signs of its previous occupants, and also of a hasty exit. The lock on the door had been shot open, and the delivery boy was inside unconscious. The window was open and Langdon ran over and stuck his head out of it. Jack surveyed the room, cautiously moving garbage aside with her foot and found a man unconscious on the ground hidden behind a desk.

 

She bent down and felt for his pulse, then rifled through his pockets. He was wearing some light armour and a bruise was forming on his temple. This must have been one of the bodyguards. She wondered why he had been knocked out instead of killed. It's what she would have done, there was no point leaving loose ends.

 

“You aren't going to believe this.” Langdon stepped away from the window, a shocked look on his face.

 

“Do you think someone already killed Elliot?”

 

Langdon shook his head. “Don't think so. I caught a glimpse of the guys who got here before us and they weren't dragging a body.”

 

“Who?” Jack demanded.

 

“They...they were wearing N7 armour.”

 

Jack froze up. Whatever she had been expecting to hear, that wasn't even on the list of possibilities. She was about to ask whether Langdon was sure, or profoundly drunk, but the sniper had good eyes and he looked absolutely certain of himself. What the fuck were N7 marines doing in this shithole?

 

Unbidden, her thoughts wandered to Shepard and the distinctive armour he had worn so proudly, and then she felt a coil of anger again. The Alliance were here and they were targeting the same man. The Alliance were a few storeys away from her, she could make it if she jumped through the window...she could...

 

“We have to tell Zaeed.”

 

“Fuck that! Let's go after them-”

 

Langdon grabbed her arm to stop her from vaulting out the window ledge, and she almost hit him on reflex. His gaze was serious and the urgency in his voice caught her attention. “The target's on the run. We have to let the others know so he doesn't get away.”

 

The job. The hunt. Of course. Jack fought down the urge to go after the marines and gave a shaky nod, trying to slow her breathing. She tapped on her omni-tool and hailed the other scout team.

 

“Target's on the run. We found his hideout, but they already cleared out. We have Alliance after him too.”

 

Tyrus' voice crackled back. “Shit. Alright, we're heading for the docks. Meet us there.”

 

Jack strode briskly out of the room and motioned for Langdon to follow her. “Come on, we're going to steal a car.”

 

Langdon's eyebrows rose. “You know how to bypass the security on a skycar?”

 

Jack snorted. “No. I'm going to smash open the window and climb inside.”

 

***

 

“You sneaky sonofabitch.”

 

Zaeed groused under his breath as he watched Elliot peel away into the treeline, running hard for a vacant ground transport. The other strike team were still playing cat and mouse with the hired guards inside the small ship Elliot had hired to get him off planet. Zaeed had followed his gut and went back outside to see the little bastard had given them all the slip.

 

He broke into a hard run, sending a burst of fire Elliot's way and hoping to catch him in the legs. Elliot's head whipped behind briefly to see Zaeed was in pursuit, and then he ducked his head and ran harder. He made it into the shipping truck and fumbled with the controls.

 

Zaeed was hoping that would buy him enough time to catch up, but the vehicle rumbled to life and Elliot slammed it into gear. The bulky truck jerked forward, and Zaeed went down on one knee and began firing at the tires. The truck swerved to and fro, the idiot was a maniac driver, and suddenly it swung around to face him.

 

“Ah, shit.”

 

Zaeed heard the engine roar as Elliot accelerated and the vehicle came rushing towards him. He rolled out of the way in time to not be crushed, but the bumper of the vehicle caught him and he tumbled hard to the ground, the right side of his body screaming. He looked up quickly to see if Elliot was going to try and run him over again, but the vehicle kept pushing forward.

 

He was heading back to the colony, hoping to shake them off amongst other people. If Elliot  got any further then the job would go tits up. No way they could chase him amongst civilians without bringing the Alliance down hard on their heads. He had to catch the bastard now.

 

Zaeed pulled out an inferno grenade from his belt, activated it, and slung it into the air. He didn't have time to run.

 

The vehicle exploded and the blast knocked Zaeed back several feet, crashing him to the ground in a meaty heap of pain and blinding light. Shrapnel and the incendiary material from the grenade rained down around him and he could feel his skin searing. His entire body was in shock and he found he couldn't move.

 

He saw the remnants of the car and the charred body on the ground. He somehow managed to laugh.

 

“Got you.”

 

***

 

“Holy shit.”

 

Tyrus looked up from the corpse of the guard he and Jack had chased into the storage hold of the ship. His eyes widened when he saw the stacked crates upon crates she was ogling. They had stumbled into a room full of a shit ton of raw eezo, all packed, weighed and labelled neatly.

 

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” She asked.

 

“That this looks like hazard pay?”

 

She flashed him a grin. “I like the way you think. Want me to call Sherri or do you?”

 

Tyrus chuckled, already tapping on his omni-tool. “I think I want to be the bearer of good news.”

 

Jack hunted around the rest of the storage hold until she found a dolly and began moving crates onto it. Tyrus radioed Sherri to bring the shuttle for a special delivery to the Nihlus, and then lent Jack a hand. By the time they had finished loading up the last of the crates, they heard footsteps pounding towards the storage hold.

 

Sherri burst into view, but she had a panicked look on her face. “What the fuck happened?”

 

Jack frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

 

“There's burnt up shit everywhere! And the boss man's down.”

 

Jack pushed past both of them and flew out of the ship. When she came outside it was to see the charred and still smoking remains of the truck leaving a sooty smear on the ground, and Zaeed being helped up gingerly by the twins. Tyrus and Sherri came pounding up soon behind her.

 

His face was a mess of soot and blood, and there were scorch marks and chinks in his armour. He was cursing at the twins that he could goddamn stand up on his own, but he was favouring his right side and his jaw was clenched. Jack felt relief swoop through her and felt sick all at the same time.

 

“What the fuck happened to you?”

 

He squinted at her through the blood running into his eye. “The little shit hit me with a goddamn truck.”

 

Jack looked at the blackened remains of the vehicle. “I'm not cleaning that up.”

 

“Smartass.” He bit back a groan and the twins walked him to the shuttle. Sherri laid her hand on Jack's arm and gestured towards it with her head.

 

“We'll drop off the boss man first and pick up the eezo on a second round.”

 

“Shouldn't he go to a hospital?”

 

Sherri gave her an incredulous look. “I think this,” she waved an arm at the scene of devastation around them, “is going to draw some attention. We need to clear out before the cops show up. And I think we're going to get asked some questions if we show up at a medic's smelling of gross burnt dead man.”

 

Jack shrugged and then followed her. She had a point. Tyrus was already organizing the twins and Langdon behind them on getting rid of the bodies before any authorities showed up. Jack stepped inside the shuttle where Zaeed was sitting against the wall and sat down beside him. The walls rumbled around them as the shuttle warmed up and she nudged him in the shoulder.

 

“Ow.” He glared at her through his good eye.

 

She merely smirked. “Now who's a showoff?”

 

***

 

Zaeed sat down on an upturned crate in their makeshift med bay, and immediately began drinking from the good bottle of scotch stored in the cabinet. He had complained when Jack started undoing his armour until she snapped at him that she had never heard a man bitch so much about a woman undressing him before.

 

She dropped the chest plate onto the table, grimacing as soot came away onto her hands. It was dented and nicked and looked like it had seen far better days. “That's going to need some spit shine.”

 

“It's seen worse.”

 

After he mopped up the blood off his face, he didn't look quite as bad. There was a shiny burn on his cheek, but he slapped some medi-gel on it and it already started to lose its redness. A piece of shrapnel had dug into his arm though, where there was a gap in his armour, and he winced as he tried to dig it out.

 

She slapped his hand away and examined the entry wound. “You're making it worse. Hold still.”

 

“The last goddamn person I trust to play doctor in this galaxy is you.”

 

“You done bitching?”

 

She pursed her lips as she looked at it closely. It had dug deep in, but she could still see a jagged tip of metal poking through the skin. A shimmer of blue settled around her, and with a frown of concentration on her face, she grasped the edge of the shrapnel with her biotics.

 

Zaeed willed himself to relax as he felt the shrapnel slowly begin to slide back out. It set his nerves on fire and he could feel the sharp edges of metal cutting him again, but Jack had a surprisingly steady hand and after a stubborn moment it slid out completely. The biotics made his skin tingle slightly, and he thought he'd have enjoyed the sensation if it wasn't muffled under a blanket of white-hot pain. His arm ached horribly.

 

Jack held up the piece of shrapnel triumphantly. “Got you, you little fucker.”

 

He sounded surprised as he put medi-gel over the wound and then experimentally flexed his fingers. “I didn't know you could do that.”

 

She tossed the piece of shrapnel onto the table and shrugged. “Rodriguez...one of my students taught me that, actually. She was a smart kid, liked experimenting. Guess I learned from them too.”

 

He had a curious look on his face and she felt her face grow hot as she stared at the floor. She hadn't meant to say any of that, but it slipped out. She finally decided that it was all right to have voiced it. What she was recalling was a good memory, but she mentally clamped down from continuing further down that trail of thought.

 

Thankfully, Zaeed didn't ask her to elaborate, instead taking another long drink from the bottle and handing it over to her. She accepted it with an odd quirk of her lips, taking a slow, thoughtful sip.

 

“You know any other little tricks like that?”

 

Jack just shrugged. “Guess so. I don't really keep a list.”

 

Zaeed sighed and rolled his eyes, motioning for the bottle again. Jack gave him a sly grin and then slapped his newly healing arm in a 'friendly' pat.

 

“Looks like you'll live, old man.”

 

He grunted as he bit back a scream of pain, his good eye blazing with the promise of revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW IT'S BEEN AWHILE. PLEASE TAKE THIS LONGER THAN NORMAL CHAPTER AS AN APOLOGY.
> 
> Apologies first and foremost for the long wait, as you can see I have another fic live now and so I was MIA for a little finishing up a birthday fic for my friend. Now that it's over, I can devote more time to VZ and these crazy mercs. Things still going a little slow on this end, but Zaeed and Jack are such a pair of troublemakers they're part of the chorus yelling at me to move my ass and keep writing.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! As ever, if you've been itching for more Zaeed or mercenary action fun, check out Jazzpha's Black Sun Rising and join the good ship "thug life" (I am never ever saying that again, I'm so sorry)
> 
> Cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> The game canon I'm working with for this story is the Destroy ending with a paragon male Shepard who sacrificed himself. It's a few years into the future where the galaxy has managed to recover somewhat, with some of the Mass Relays and other synthetics that had been destroyed being rebuilt. The Normandy crew's scattered again, and I might touch on a few of them and what they're up to. The void Shepard leaves behind will be touched on somewhat.
> 
> I've always liked Zaeed and Jack, and I think they would have the most common ground and would probably feel the most restless after the Reapers were destroyed (Grunt too, but he has a place to go back to with clan Urdnot, while those two are adrift). So of course my brain goes "well - what if they were running around as a pair of mercenaries afterwards?" And then - boom - this all showed up on my computer. Trouble, danger, drinking, fighting, cursing - I hope the ride's going to be as fun for you as it will for me.
> 
> As for the 'pairing' elephant in the room...I don't know? With what's written so far (a few chapters ahead of this), I'm enjoying slowly building up a relationship in terms of a grudging respect and reluctant friendship, but there's some tension to be sure. I like having characters very in-character to how they were in canon though, so anything will be a slow burn. It's still up in the air. I'd love to hear your feedback and your thoughts either way.
> 
> Cheers! Hope you enjoy! This is also archived on fanfiction.net, but due to some of their restrictions the version up here will be the completely uncensored one.


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